A Love So Strong
by Harry Potter Fan 1994
Summary: Re-titled from "My Better Half" because I think this fits better. This one-shot collection depicts the reasons that Mal and Ben's relationship stands the test of time (plus some AU stories, because why not?)
1. Third

**This is a collection of Bal one-shots that aren't necessarily related to Give Me A Reason, but wouldn't be out of place. Some of them are kind of long, admittedly. They will not be in any chronological order.**

* * *

It was a quiet Sunday morning, for once. No councils, no press conferences, no visiting dignitaries, no traveling - at least, not for Mal. She took this precious time to visit the one room in the castle that was just for her: her studio. Her latest artwork had been languishing for several days, as Ben's absence meant she was busier than ever.

She'd been under a lot of pressure. Even after all these years, she couldn't say she enjoyed being royalty. It was more than she had bargained for, more than she could do, at times. The late nights painstakingly going through drafts of proclamations to edit and check for loopholes, followed by early morning meetings trying to convince others - who she was sure barely tolerated her presence - with research that the law would strengthen Auradon's economy or increase the citizens' safety, was just the half of it. Paparazzi hounded her daily, with ridiculous questions about her choice of dress or hair or makeup, and printed exaggerated versions of her statement, which was usually, "Does anyone really care about this?" A constant influx of people from around Auradon brought her problems that she had no hope of solving, though when she tried she inevitably upset somebody. Even when she visited her friends, who were all too far away for her liking, reporters questioned her commitment to the kingdom. Her every move was watched, judged, criticized; it was exhausting under normal circumstances, and for the past several weeks it had been getting harder for her to stop dwelling on negatives.

But for Ben, it was all worth it.

 _Damn him,_ Mal thought, smiling wryly while squeezing a tube of paint over her palette. They spent very little time together, compared to most of the other couples Mal knew, but those precious moments kept her going. Surprise lunch visits to bring her coffee. Proud smiles when she (occasionally) did something right, and reluctant smiles when she cheered him up. His arms around her and a kiss goodnight, no matter how tired they both were. That look in his eyes, whenever they saw each other, that said, _I love you more than anything else on Earth._ This is what it was to be Ben's wife, and she had accepted it.

In front of her was a large canvas, smeared with colors that as of yet formed no discernible image. Mal added strokes here and there, wiping the brush off on her apron in between. It was in between mixing increasing amounts of blue into yellow to achieve the perfect shade of blue-green that she heard the door open.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Mal whipped around, beaming. "You're back!" Ben leaned against the door frame, returning her smile. She set her brush and palette down on a paint-stained table before approaching him. "You've been gone a week and you're not going to give your wife a hug?"

He eyed her dirty apron, which she hadn't taken off. Still in a crisp suit, having likely come straight from the limo that brought him back to his castle, he pretended to think about it. "Um...I think I'll pass."

She turned away from him. "Whatever. Who needs - " Ben had taken her arm and whisked her around again, pulling her into a fierce kiss. Mal had actually been planning on taking the apron off after teasing him, but all protest escaped her even though he had her pressed flush against his chest. Her hands slid up to those familiar shoulders and met each other behind his neck, keeping him from breaking the kiss for just one more second.

But break they had to. Ben rested his forehead on hers, smiling softly. "Hey."

"Hey," she murmured back.

"I missed you."

"Should've thought of that before you left me here." He straightened and rolled his eyes. Mal laughed at the front of his suit, now covered in various colors. "'What an _interesting_ jacket you have on, King Benjamin,'" she mocked. "'Who designed it? What do you call this look? Do you think it will catch on as this season's trend?'"

"Ugh." He made a face. Ben didn't have to deal with the gossip magazines as much as Mal did, but he was quite tired of them all the same. "I call it ' _something I hope my wife will magically clean up so Lumiere doesn't yell at me.'"_

"That's funny. I was about it call it _'why ruin a good show?'"_

"Because you love me and don't want to see me miserable?" he tried.

She smirked at his pout, but then gave in and pointed in his direction. She'd gotten quite good at wordless spells since arriving in Auradon - the paint was gone in a flash.

After she removed her own messy apron, Ben much more gently wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hands came up to cradle the sides of his face. She'd missed him too, as he well knew. He deepened their kiss, and after a few seconds Mal pulled back, questioning but not complaining. "The door's still open."

"I know." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'm enjoying this while I can, because in about two minutes you're going to be really mad at me."

Now frowning, she asked, "Why?"

Ben caressed her cheek for a moment, then sighed and stepped back. "We couldn't reach an agreement. The raiders took refuge in the mountains, and they're plundering the villages in the valleys to help them set up camp. We told them that if they stepped out of line again it would be an act of war - since they've declared secession from Auradon - and they didn't stop. So now I have to go back, and I'm taking Lieutenant Sinclair and her unit with me."

"Okay," said Mal slowly. Ben hated armed conflict, so he tried to avoid it if at all possible - in the past, the presence of a dragon had cowed the opposing side before the fighting could even begin. "So when are we leaving?"

"You're not coming, Mal."

Her response was immediate. "Like hell I'm not!"

"Please." If his previous statement had been an order, this turned it into a supplication. "I need to leave now, and I know you're angry with me. We can talk about it when I get back - and I will get back, Mal. There are fifty of them and five hundred of us. They'd be stupid to attack."

" _They're already attacking!"_ she seethed. "There's no way you - "

"Mal," he said softly. "For me."

How dare he play that card? When she said she'd do anything for him, that didn't mean 'nothing'. She was furious, and turned her back on him. "Go," she spat.

"Thank you." Then he was gone.

* * *

There were only three men Ben could see fully. Others were hiding in the trees up the slope, likely holding weapons they'd found when they robbed the nearby villages. Sinclair's unit, however, was in full view of the bandits. It was a fraction of Auradon's army, but more than enough to scare the living daylights out of an amateur militia.

Ben signaled to Sinclair to stay back while a rebel checked him for weapons, and he walked forward to meet with his counterpart. The man opposite him was heavy and bearded, with a permanent scowl on his face. Ben knew him as Raza, the unofficial leader of this rebellion.

"We'll fight you," said Raza gruffly. He was at least half a foot taller than Ben, and made sure Ben knew this by tilting his head down to speak. "We won't pay your shit taxes for nothing. You ain't a king to no one here." He smirked. "You ain't even a _man_."

Ben had been listening to this sort of talk all week, and had assumed it was just bravado until this point. He thought back to what he had said to Mal. Could they possibly be that dumb?

"The offer stands until the first arrow flies," he replied, using a fairly archaic term for 'until the battle begins.' "You still have a seat in the council if you feel you aren't being represented - though I've already told you that you haven't been forgotten."

This group was made of mostly farmers from the surrounding lands. There had been a terrible drought last year, and they'd been understandably inconsolable at the thought of an entire season's worth of lost crop. Ben had spent days in meetings, trying to allocate resources and send enough aid so their families wouldn't go hungry. And then one day, Mal left mysteriously. She'd only come back after dark, exhausted and covered in soil. She'd never said anything, but the crops had somehow made it through the dry spell with a fairly good yield.

That was the day Ben realized how much Mal was doing to keep his kingdom together.

She wasn't supposed to be using powerful magic without it being approved by Auradon's council. Her dragonform, for example, was allowed in war scenarios only. But Ben had looked back through records and noted that small miracles had been occurring around Auradon ever since Mal became queen. Nothing ever too obvious, apart from the one that tipped him off, but things that could have become worse, and could have made his life that much harder.

He couldn't explain that to these men, though. They didn't know the royal family had helped them - couldn't, because Mal was violating a law made specifically for her. Their rage at abandonment had grown, spurred by every perceived slight, until they decided they wanted their own government. Some of their wives and children had joined them - some had not. Still, there were enough innocents on that mountain that Ben wanted to avoid a fight by any means possible.

"You'll see. You and yours'll starve without us."

There would be a noticeable dip in some of the warm-weather crops heavy in this region, but Ben had to explain to him that by no means was anyone going to starve - that this whole venture was, both literally and metaphorically, fruitless.

"No it ain't." The bigger man grinned menacingly. "Because if your soldier's know what's good for 'em, they'll let us do as we please or we'll kill you."

Raza, it turned out, was not only looking down on Ben because he could, but because they had both been patted down by someone on the opposing side before entering this conversation - and he'd had the audacity to tape a dagger just under his chin, hidden by the shaggy brown carpet that was his beard. In a split second, he'd grabbed Ben and pressed the tiny knife to his throat, in full view of the unit from Auradon. Behind them, the other rebels cheered.

This hadn't been entirely unexpected, though the king had hoped these men would see sense. Ben grasped at the arm that held the knife, waiting to execute one of the many maneuvers that would free him from this position with only a scratch to show for it.

"Now here's what's gonna happen!" Raza yelled as Ben's soldiers took up defensive positions.

He never got to finish that thought. To Ben's horror, a purple-scaled dragon dived out of the sky and spiraled towards them, fast as a bullet, breathing a pillar of fire that burned close enough for both Ben and Raza to feel its heat. Ben smelled burning hair - she'd actually singed the top of Raza's head. The bandit screamed, releasing the king to put out the relatively small fire with his hands. Ben scrambled a safe distance away, immediately grabbed by two of his own soldiers and pushed behind the front line.

Mal landed in front of the Auradonian infantry and let loose a roar that shook Ben to his very bones. Now she was the one looking down at Raza, another fireball threatening to leave her mouth.

"Disarm!" Sinclair had the good sense to yell. "Disarm and you won't be hurt!"

Another roar wiped away the resolve of most men, who appeared from their hiding places and threw down their guns. Some, however, were not quite finished.

Ben's blood ran cold when he heard the shot. Someone had fired their rifle, and the noise was deafening to Ben - louder than Mal, even. Mal lost control of the fireball as the bullet hit her, lighting up several trees. She roared again in pain, and then she was angrier than ever.

 _"Where did she get hit?!"_ Ben demanded of whoever was listening.

"In the leg, Your Majesty," Sinclair replied. "She's bleeding, but not badly. On your orders, we open fire."

Ben was seeing red. A part of him knew that he shouldn't give that order, that men were surrendering and any attack now would just be murder. He fought to keep his sanity. "Arrest them."

Mal had approached the idiot who'd fired at her, who was visibly shaking. She bowed her head so it was right in front of his, bared her teeth, and roared loudly enough to burst his eardrums. Blood began running out of the raider's ears, just as tears began running from his eyes. For good measure, she snapped her jaws in the air just in front of him, and he fainted dead away.

When the entire militia had their hands up in the air, allowing the heavily armed Auradonian forces to cuff them, Mal let one of the soldiers remove the bullet from her leg. Thanks to her scales, it hadn't burrowed too deep; it did about as much damage as a needle stick. When that was done, Mal looked back at Ben. He shook his head, and she took to the sky.

* * *

Mal hadn't really needed to go to the clinic. The wound had decreased in size with her, and looked significantly less alarming. Her calf had already stopped bleeding. Still, nurses had cleaned and dressed the shrunken bullet hole, and conducted quite a few other tests Mal found unnecessary.

"We have our orders, Your Majesty," said one of them apologetically when she protested.

So she was sitting, bored, when Ben stormed into the room. Noticing the nurse, who was cleaning gel off of Mal's stomach, he said stiffly, "Please give me a moment with my wife."

Neither of the women liked the sound of his tone. The nurse hurried out, and Mal crossed her arms.

"I told you to stay home." He was angrier than Mal had seen him in a while, but was trying to control it.

"You also said no one would attack you. I saved your _life._ "

"No, you _didn't._ That guy didn't know a dagger from a kitchen knife, and I've been _trained_ to get out of situations like that one. So all you did was get _shot!"_

"So what? I can take a hit!"

" _I know you can!_ " he thundered, pointing at her stomach. " _But SHE can't!"_

Mal covered her still very flat belly possessively. "Nothing happened to her! The ultrasound tech said she's fine."

He completely lost it. "You only _got_ an ultrasound because I made them do it - did you even think about her? What if he'd shot you in the stomach, Mal? She could have died! And there's no way you knew whether she would survive your dragon transformation in the first place!" Mal shifted uncomfortably. She'd thought about it at the time - but the risk to Ben was too great for her to ignore. " _How could you put our daughter in danger like that?!_ "

She gaped at him, but a suitable answer did not come quickly. "She's fine!" Mal repeated uselessly.

"Is that all you can say? You brought her onto a battlefield!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"You had a choice. You could've chosen to stay here, safe!"

"And what about you? I was just supposed to hope nothing horrible happened _after you declared war?_ I'm not going to be treated like some invalid just because - "

"It's not about how you're being treated! It's about _protecting our family._ That's what parents _do_!"

When his wife didn't respond - couldn't, because what did she know about parenting? - Ben just growled as he ripped the door open, and slammed it on his way out.

Mal sank low on the exam table, keeping her face impassive though she could feel the guilt like a hand squeezing her heart. When was the last time Ben had gotten mad at her? When was the last time Ben had gotten mad at all? Definitely not in the last month. Despite it being a surprise - she didn't think she could get away with calling it an 'accident' - Ben had never been more ecstatic than the moment she told him she was pregnant. He'd picked her up, spun her around, laughed, kissed her again and again - and it was infectious. Mal put to the back of her mind the minutes she'd spent in the bathroom alone, waiting, dreading.

But now it was back. Those pinprick-like thoughts that told her _you could never be a good mother._

 _Look how you were raised. How would you know how to take care of a child? You don't. You don't know the first damn thing._

 _This is a mistake._

 _You'll be another Maleficent, and this little girl is going to hate you because you won't love her. You're supposed to love her already. Ben does. He's going to see, eventually, that you're no good for her...or for him._

 _What's wrong with you? Actually, you know what's wrong, don't you. Villains don't love their children._

She didn't see Ben for the rest of the day, as he was likely arranging trials, and could hardly concentrate on the things she was supposed to do. Evie called after hearing the news that Mal had been injured, but was alright. The phone call was mostly assurances - _yes, I'm fine. Yes, the baby is fine. Yes, Ben is fine. I swear the baby is fine._ It left her feeling worse than before.

When she got back to her room at night, Ben wasn't there. She changed and climbed into bed, lying on her side so she could gaze at the wedding photo on her nightstand. _The best day of my life was the day you walked into it,_ Ben had told her when they spoke their vows in front of hundreds of people, and thousands more watching on television. _I fell in love with you so fast I didn't even know it was happening._

Ben had a new 'best day of his life' now - the day that pregnancy test turned positive. And she had a feeling even that 'best day' wouldn't last long, assuming she was able to keep the baby alive until it was born. She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing her head was too full of hissing doubts to let her sleep.

Mal heard Ben enter a half hour later. He disappeared into their bathroom for a while, and then came out and climbed in next to her. She felt his arm encircle her waist and his lips press into her hair - a normal goodnight kiss. So she quit pretending to be asleep.

"You're awake," he noted when she turned to face him.

"Yeah." Mal rested a hand on his chest. "I hate it when we fight."

"Me too." He picked up her hand and kissed it. "I'm sorry. I was just so scared. Especially when...God, when I heard that shot..."

"I know. I'm sorry too." She still felt hollow, but tried not to show it. How many times would she have to apologize in the future for screwing their daughter up?

Ben noticed that her mood had failed to improve much. "Hey. You were right. She's fine. That's what matters. I shouldn't have gotten so upset at you; you were doing your best in a bad situation." He kissed her forehead again. "You know you're still my favorite person, right? At least, for the next six months." She forced a laugh, but that statement terrified her all the more. Ben stretched out and sighed. "Plus she's all set to morph dragon too. Now there are going to be two of you flying around. I think I'm going to be the boring one in the family." He glanced at her, waiting for another laugh, but she was silent, thinking.

Then, suddenly, "You would have blamed me, wouldn't you, if something had happened to her?" She didn't know why she'd blurted that out. She'd meant to just swallow her doubts, as always; she neither had the time nor the desire to indulge in self-pity. "If she'd been hurt today...if she'd been killed today...you'd have blamed me forever."

Ben's mouth hung open, like he was going to say something but didn't know what. His eyes were wide with shock. A couple seconds of that was all Mal needed. She got out of bed.

"Mal, wait - " He untangled himself from the covers.

"Don't." Her voice cracked.

"Mal - " She was forgetting how to breathe, which was made all the worse because she needed to _run away_. It took more force than normal to turn the door handle. She magically sealed the bedroom door behind her and could hear Ben struggling to open it, and the muffled sound of him desperately calling, "Mal!"

She'd let him go, but only when she was far enough away. She couldn't bear to listen to another word from him. Not when she knew how easy it would be to lose his love. How _inevitable._

Before the tears started falling, she found an empty guest bedroom and collapsed onto the floor - only then, crumpled in a heap, did she begin sobbing uncontrollably. The stress of the past week - maybe of the past three years of being queen - and all of the fears from the recesses of her mind and probably a good amount of pregnancy hormones had taken over. Who had she been kidding? This life required too many things she just didn't have in her. She could hardly keep up the facade of being a queen worthy of King Benjamin, worthy of Auradon. And now, at the same time, she somehow had to figure out how to be a mother worthy of the Crown Princess? Ben was already starting to see that she would fail. His outburst this morning was only proof that she wasn't good enough. Sure, he'd been scared. But he'd also been disappointed - he'd always believed in her, and she had let him down. How many times could that happen before he gave up? How long did she have left before he could deal with her mistakes no longer? A year? Less?

 _Please, no._ She knew what it was like to lose him. She never wanted to feel that way again. The way she was feeling now. _But I can't try any harder. I'm too far from perfect._

Eventually, Lumiere found her, probably drawn by the noise. It couldn't have been that long, because she was still crying. "Queen Mal?"

She took a shaky breath so she could haltingly say, "Please leave me alone."

He hesitated. They had a unique camaraderie built on quiet respect. He had accepted her long before even Ben's father had, and she'd always appreciated him for it. He was just trying to help, as any friend would. But in the end, he was a servant, and that was an order. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Lumiere went to find someone who didn't necessarily have to obey her, and Mal tried in vain to calm herself down. It was like all the hopelessness she'd been trying to shove into the back of her mind was exploding out, until she couldn't think about anything else. She wiped her eyes repeatedly, until the skin around them was raw, but more tears kept coming. _Please let this be a nightmare. Please don't let this be happening. Please, please, please..._

Ben skidded into the room, eyes wide at his wife's state. "Mal..." He made to help her up, but she flinched at his movement and he stopped, hurt. "Mal, you asked if I would blame you forever, and then you gave me two seconds to think about it. Of course I wouldn't. We'd figure it out. We always have."

"No, we _haven't._ " She caught a fresh sob in the back of her throat. " _I_ haven't. I just c-can't do it. I can't do anything right, no matter how hard I try. And I _have_ tried, I have! But I'm always failing at something or d-disappointing someone and I can't do it anymore. I'm not good enough and I _know_ that, everyone knows that, and I'm so t-tired of pretending that I am. I c-can't keep it up. I can't be a queen. I can't be a mother. I can't be the person you need me to be. I c-can't - " She took another shuddering breath, refusing to look at him while her heart broke. " - I can't be your _wife_." Any attempts to quell her crying went out the window. She buried her head in her knees and hoped that would muffle her weeping. It was over. She'd always known this day would come, subconsciously. And now it was here. Her last, ultimate failure.

Ben didn't say anything for a long time, until she was reduced to quiet heaves. When he did, his voice had a tremor in it too. "I...I had no idea you were so unhappy."

She didn't respond. She really had been unhappy, most of the time that wasn't spent with him. It had been a struggle, a long trudge through time just to get to those short, blissful oases. Mal had told herself to accept it. She thought she had. But clearly, she'd been bottling everything up in hopes that it would go away. Exactly how much she'd bottled up was made evident by the several ounces of water she'd cried already.

"Ten years we've been together, and I never once noticed you wanted out."

 _No!_ Mal wanted to scream. _I don't want to leave you!_ When she looked up, she saw Ben seated on the bed, shoulders sagging, and the most heartbroken expression on his face. She hadn't meant to make him feel this way - _this is what happens when you're too weak to handle your own pain. Other people have to bear it for you._ What a joke, that she was occupying the highest position in the land. She was pathetic.

"How long have you been hurting like this?" he asked quietly.

She didn't want to tell him, so she didn't say anything.

Ben stared down at his hands. "I thought...I thought we were happy. If I had known you were so miserable, I'd have never dragged you into this life. I'm so sorry. Mal, I'm so, so sorry." Then he was wiping tears away, too. Mal tried to protest, but all that came out was another choked sob. "I loved you so much, I just wanted you by my side...I didn't realize that you'd been thrown into something you'd never asked for and it would do _this_ to you." He gestured at her. "This was never supposed to happen. I didn't even..." And then a thought occurred to him that was clearly horrific, judging by the look on his face. "God. You've been crying alone all this time. You've been putting up a front, and then you come into this room and - "

"No!" she finally spluttered. It was too late. Ben had folded over and his shoulders shook.

"What the hell kind of husband have I been?" he whispered, his voice ragged. "I promised to be there for you. _I should have been there for you._ You deserve so much better than this."

Mal found the strength to pull herself together, if not for herself, then for him. "This is the first t-time," she insisted, still hiccuping. "The only time." _So far._ Mal pushed that thought away. "I was fine. I was dealing with it."

"Until I lost it. Until I accused you over absolutely _nothing_." He looked at her, his eyes red and tears falling freely. "Is that why you don't trust me with what you're going through? Because you think I'll get upset instead of helping you?"

"No, that's not it! I..." She floundered. "We never see each other...and when we do I don't want to make you - " Mal realized it sounded like she was blaming him when he buried his head in his hands again. "Ben, we don't ask for help on the Isle!"

"You haven't been on the Isle for ten years."

"That doesn't mean I've forgotten everything. I _hate_ asking for help. Even from you."

"Please try." He slid off of the bed until he was on the floor in front of her, and reached for her hand. This time, she let him hold it. "Tell me how I can fix this. _If_ I can fix this. I don't want you to feel like you can't be my wife anymore. I don't want to lose you." His eyes were still glassy. "Please."

Mal felt that transient strength melt away, her hopelessness growing when he repeated her previous words back to her. "I don't know how to be a m-mother. Nothing's going to fix that. I'm going to keep messing up and eventually you're going to hate me for it."

"God, no." Ben pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "Mal, I thought you knew...even when we fight, even when I'm angry, there's never, _ever_ a moment that I stop loving you. I don't know how to be a father either. Neither of us have done this before. We're both going to make mistakes. I'd never hate you, Mal. I know you'd never do anything to purposely hurt her. Even today - today was my fault. It was entirely my fault. You didn't mess up. You didn't deserve what I said to you."

"But you were right, I didn't - "

"No, Mal. I made you choose. Between me and her." He loosened his grip a little so he could see her face and brush away some errant tears. "It was a terrible thing for me to do. I never should've put you in that position. I thought - I just assumed you would choose her, because I can protect myself."

"I know you can, but you're not replaceable!" It was out of her mouth before she understood the implications of that statement. She hadn't meant it in that way - she'd been trying to convey that she couldn't live without him. Ben pulled away further, and his countenance darkened. Now she'd done it. He couldn't possibly _not_ hate her, now that he believed she cared as much for their baby daughter as she did for a pair of shoes. Mal was half a second from crying out the rest of her weight in water.

"Is that what Maleficent used to tell you?" he said instead. "That you were replaceable?"

Mal didn't even have to think about it. "All the time," she answered softly. "She'd say that all children were replaceable, until they proved otherwise. I tried so hard to prove to her that I wasn't worthless, so she'd stop hating me. And now...my God, I'm just like her."

"No, Mal," He embraced her again before she could spiral down further. "You're nothing like her. You know that's wrong. She didn't care." Ben stroked her hair comfortingly. "You've always been good enough. You've already proved yourself again and again as queen, even if you don't think you have. You always do more than you're asked to. More than you're supposed to. I know. _I know_." He made her lock eyes with him, so she understood exactly what he meant. "The people love you, and they don't know the half of what you do for them. There is no one, _no one_ , in this entire kingdom who thinks you're worthless. Even Maleficent - you beat her. She's stuck the way she is because of you." He rested his forehead on hers. "And to me, you're worth the world and more."

He didn't understand. "I don't want to hate our daughter, Ben." Mal lowered her gaze, ashamed. "I already know I can't love her like you do."

"You will." To her surprise, he smiled. "I want you to trust me on this. It's not something I can describe, but it's something I've seen again and again. I'm absolutely sure that the minute you see her, you'll love her. I promise you'll understand." Mal furrowed her brow, still doubtful and scared. But it helped significantly when Ben continued, "I know that's not enough to go on right now. So until our baby's born, I'm not going to make you choose anymore. It was a no-win situation and it wasn't fair. I promise I'll stay here with you until then. I'll delay things, send other people in my place if I have to, but I won't leave you. I won't go anywhere even remotely dangerous until I can have my dragon next to me again."

She wasn't completely relieved, but at least he knew where she stood and he didn't despise her. That already made her feel a lot better. Mal finally allowed herself to snuggle into his arms, letting his warmth chase away the last of her sniffling. The thought of their marriage ending had been so real, so terrifying, that being able to pull him closer - and have him hold her - felt like a gift. She could hear how rapid his heartbeat had become and knew he'd been afraid too. "You're making a lot of promises, Your Majesty," she remarked, gratified when his smile grew.

"And here's another one." He continued running his fingers through her hair. "I promise our marriage comes first. Always. I hope you never forget how much I love you, or think that I could ever stop. We're going to spend more time together, like we should've been all along. Every day."

"That's ridiculous."

"It shouldn't be," he noted sadly. "As far as I know, you didn't marry me to be queen. You married me to be with me."

Mal snaked her arms around his waist, sighing. "So much for that."

That strengthened his resolve. "I'm making it happen. That gazebo over the river behind this castle? That's our spot now. We're going to have dinner together every evening, and no one's going to bother us."

"Ben..." She appreciated it, but it wasn't practical. "This kingdom isn't going to run itself. And we're about to have a kid. Things like that get put on hold."

"Mal," he countered, "I came so close to losing you today and I didn't even suspect anything was wrong until everything fell apart. I don't want that to happen again." He tilted her chin up so he could kiss her. "Because you're not replaceable either."

* * *

Mal was exhausted, and sweating, and hungry, and in pain - although not from the waist down, since that epidural had worked wonders. Her upper back hurt, though, from the awkward positioning. She'd been through worse; she was just crabby.

Ben had been by her side through it all, and now was watching with a hawkish intensity, as she was, while the doctor examined their crying baby and the nurses cleaned her.

"Congratulations, Your Majesties." Finally, they swaddled her and brought her back over. "You've just had a healthy baby girl."

Ben's smile was a mile wide. He took her from the doctor, cradling her delicately. "Hey there, sweetheart," he whispered, swaying from side to side. "Mal, she's beautiful."

He handed the wailing bundle to Mal, who accepted her cautiously. She'd never held a newborn before, and was being extra careful to support the baby's very floppy head against her chest. Being held this close to a familiar heartbeat, the little girl's cries died down, and she blinked up at her mother.

Mal's breath caught. "Ben...her eyes look just like yours."

Ben's arm had come up from underneath Mal's to stroke his daughter's cheek. "I was hoping she'd get yours," he joked. Mal laughed quietly, watching her daughter's gaze dart around the room and her limbs twitch under the constricting blanket. When she yawned, Mal's heart felt like it would swell until it burst. For the first time in her life, she was crying tears of joy.

How could she ever have been worried she wouldn't love this child with everything in her?

The doctor came back and reached out. "May I?" Mal instinctively drew back. "My apologies, Your Majesty, but we need to do a five minute check to see how she's adjusting to life outside the womb. It will take as little time as the last one did."

Mal shamefacedly let him take the baby. Her stomach lurched when the child began to cry again.

"What are they doing?"

Ben rubbed her arm comfortingly. "They took the blanket off. I don't think she likes that." He was still grinning as if his face was now stuck that way. "Maybe she didn't get your eyes, but it looks like she got your temper." He laughed for far too long at his own joke, but Mal understood. She kind of wanted to laugh uncontrollably too.

"Everything looks good," the doctor assured them, handing the re-swaddled girl back to Ben. Mal rested her head on his shoulder, smiling when their daughter stopped crying again.

Ben turned towards her and kissed her tenderly. "You're really, truly incredible," he murmured.

Mal cradled his cheek. "I can't take all the credit." Ben chuckled and returned to gazing in awe at the girl in his arms. "She's perfect."

The doctor was finishing up his note. "We'll give you a few minutes before we invite in your family. Do you have a name decided?"

The couple looked at him and smiled.

"Amber."

* * *

 **Aha! I was trying to find some adjectives ( ftw) and realized that benevolent and malevolent are where Ben and Mal came from (with the added coincidence of starting with the letters of their parents' first names - very clever). So where would their daughter's name come from? Ambivalent, I think. This is now canon in my head and if it doesn't end up being canon on TV I will be a little miffed.**


	2. Adjectives

**Aaand for this one we're pretending the cotillion never happened! Sorry this is short.**

* * *

When Ben's twenty-first birthday arrived, the reporters were all over it. _Marriage._ When would he take that step? And with whom? Surely not Mal, though she'd been his girlfriend for four years. _Why not her?_ Well, because...because...

Adam didn't know the details. He only saw Mal forlornly waiting for Ben, a copy of a newspaper with "VILLAIN QUEEN?" splashed across the cover and the words "We need to talk" on her lips.

Adam believed his son had taken the breakup well. The first day, he'd been devastated, inconsolable. Then things had gotten better. There was still a sadness in his carriage - especially when he appeared at public events alone - and the young man kept to himself far more than before, but at least he was able to smile again. His duties as king he performed as well as he always had. That in particular made Adam quite proud.

It was a shame. Adam had grown to like Mal, eventually, what with her quick wit and reluctant mothering of the people around her. She reminded him of himself, in many ways, as it turned out she too had a strong sense of right and wrong. She'd gotten along with Belle wonderfully. But Adam was able to accept that her decision was for the best, though he'd never say that to Ben. It would be easier, he knew, if Ben just married a princess like he was expected to.

Ben wasn't interested. He dodged questions continuously. No, he had no plans to marry. After all, he was only twenty one. He was only twenty two. He was only twenty three. These would have been acceptable excuses, if it wasn't so painfully obvious to anyone who cared to look that he was still desperately in love with Mal.

The fairy girl still spent time around him. Their break up had been amicable, it seemed, and they still had the same friends. If Adam happened upon that group, his eyes couldn't help but focus in on his son, and the way Ben gazed at his former girlfriend as though she was an angel on Earth. It troubled the old king. If Mal was in the picture, his son would never marry.

That had brought him to this attempted solution, which Belle only hesitantly agreed to. Neaera, one of Ariel and Eric's many nieces, had a reputation for being a lovely girl, both inside and out. Ben had never met her, but then, he hadn't looked twice at most of the girls he _had_ met. Adam had invited the family on the pretense of discussing the father's shipping business - but none of the four parents were ignorant as to what this was really about. All they had to do now was find Ben -

"He works hard these days," Adam told Arista, the girl's mother. "But I'm sure he'll be happy to join us for dinner." He was rather awkwardly searching the castle rooms at random, trying to find the one his son had camped out in for the day. His wife, the Atlantean couple, and their daughter trailed behind him. Belle was doing a fantastic job of keeping the conversation going and giving the illusion that they were on a tour.

That is, until Adam opened the door to one of the many small parlors used to entertain guests of various ranks. On one of the couches sat his son, who was in the middle of a passionate make-out session with Mal. Thankfully, they were both clothed, though looking at them Adam had no doubt that may not have been the case if the party had walked in a few minutes later.

"What is the meaning of this?!" cried Arista's husband. Several things happened at once. Mal and Ben broke apart, startled and embarrassed. Belle ushered the guests on to the next room, apologizing for the unexpected addition to the tour and bringing the conversation back to water trade and transport - clearly what the evening was going to focus on, after all. Adam stayed behind, his jaw half-hanging.

"I thought you locked the door!" hissed Mal.

"I thought _you_ locked the door," Ben shot back.

"How long has this been going on?" Adam interrupted.

Ben and Mal stood up, straightening their clothes and hair while their faces turned steadily redder. "Since...about six hours after we broke up," the young king muttered.

 _Two years?!_ Adam calculated, shocked. "Why were you hiding?"

Mal answered when Ben didn't. "Because I can't be queen."

The devastated expression on his son's face said it all. A similar conversation had clearly happened before. "Mal, I'd like to speak to Ben alone now, please."

She nodded curtly, glancing at Ben once more before shuffling out. Adam waited for her to leave before turning back to his still-disheveled son.

"How long were you planning on keeping this going?"

Ben shrugged listlessly. "As long as I could," he murmured. "I love her, dad."

"I know. We all knew." Adam sighed. "But this kind of behavior isn't becoming of a king. You know that." Ben nodded, ashamed. "You need to do the honorable thing, Ben. The right thing. This can't happen anymore."

* * *

Persistent memories of the last time he'd done something like this flashed through Ben's mind as he despondently looked for Mal.

 _"Ben, please don't look at me like that. I love you." Her voice shook, but her resolve didn't._

 _"Then why?" He sounded like he was begging. Perhaps he had been._

 _"Because you know no one will ever accept us. Me." She waved the newspaper in his face. "As a fling, maybe. Not as queen."_

 _"I don't care what - "_

 _"I know you don't, but I do. Someone has to look out for you, if you're not going to look out for yourself!" she argued. "You're a king, and you have responsibilities. Your people need to feel safe. They won't, if I'm the one next to you. They still think I'm a villain."_

 _"That's a sensationalized headline. No one in Auradon - "_

 _"Marry someone else, Ben." Her voice broke, and him along with it._

 _"I won't. I can't. End our relationship if you want, Mal, but I'm never going to stop waiting for you."_

The air was heavy with impending rain, and the sun had all but set. He found her out in his mother's rose garden, gently bringing the flowers to her nose and breathing in their scent. For a second, he stood there, unnoticed by her. She was beautiful.

Sighing, Ben approached her and she turned around. Something in her eyes told him she knew what he'd come here to ask, and the resignation on her face gave him the answer. Still, he pulled her into a tight embrace, wanting to commit to memory the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the way her body fit into his. He wished he could plead with her, again, not to let him go.

 _Ben couldn't sleep; he wasn't sure he'd ever sleep again. He refused to believe they'd broken up for good. His heart told him she would come around, that tomorrow she would realize that what other people thought didn't matter. What mattered was that they wanted to spend their lives together. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't_ he _enough?_

 _She didn't wait until tomorrow. His eyes were closed, but they snapped open when he felt a pair of lips on his. The room was empty. Ben reached out blindly, brushing against clothing, and tried to grab at it. "Mal, I know you're there!"_

 _Her invisibility spell melted away. She couldn't look at him, instead hugging herself and bowing her head in shame. Ben opened his arms to her and pulled her into his bed. She held onto him for dear life._

 _"I know I shouldn't be here," she whispered, her face buried in his chest._

 _"Just stay," he said before she could continue. "No one has to know. Just stay with me."_

"Ben..." Mal said softly. She pulled back and traced down the side of his face with her fingers.

"I have to try, Mal," he explained, though he knew this battle was lost before it had begun. "I know your answer hasn't changed. But we don't have the option of sneaking around anymore. We have to choose. And Mal, if I had to choose between spending the rest of my life defending you or spending the rest of my life without you, I'd choose defending you _every time_. Without question. Maybe it would make a difference if you weren't fit to be queen, I don't know. But you are. There's no one I'd trust more with my kingdom." He grasped both of her hands as a light rain began to fall. "You're the one I want - I need - by my side. Be my queen, Mal. Marry me."

A raindrop had fallen on her cheek, mimicking a tear as it ran down to her jaw. Her eyes were wide while she considered his words. She shook her head, flipping her wet hair out of her face. "Ben...I..."

He let go, stuffing his hands in his pockets and taking a step back. "No, I understand." He didn't. But he also wanted to leave before the crushing reality hit him. "I wish you the best, Mal." He couldn't even look at the confusion and hurt in her gaze. "I...I'll always love you." For once, he despaired knowing that was true.

"You're not even going to let me finish?" she yelled as he walked away.

He turned back and gave her a wry smile. "Can you blame me?"

"Yes, I can, you _moron._ I wasn't going to say no!"

If it hadn't been for the pitter-patter of the rain, it would've been deathly silent in that rose garden, since Ben's heart had stopped beating. "You weren't?"

Mal was frowning, her hands on her hips. "No. But maybe I should, if you're going to be this stupid."

Ben couldn't control the grin spreading across his face. "Don't you dare."

Once second he was six feet away from the woman who'd become his fiance, and the next, the distance between them was gone. They met in a heated kiss, with Ben hoisting Mal clean off the ground.

He had to know, he had to make sure. "You'll marry me?" he murmured.

"Yes."

"Really?"

" _Yes!_ " she insisted, laughing against his lips. Ben joined in, laughing and kissing her and holding her close under the rain.

* * *

When Mal and Ben broke the news to his parents, Belle had rushed to hug them both (disregarding the fact that they were soaking wet) while Adam stood by with a proud smile. He clapped his son on the back, and then seemed too overwhelmed for words.

They excused themselves, purportedly to change into something drier, and ended up in Ben's room. "Lock the door this time," Mal reminded him. He rolled his eyes, but checked to make sure.

Before he could even shrug off his dripping jacket, Mal had dragged him onto his bed. "How should we celebrate?"

"I've got a few ideas," he replied, grinning at her. He reached to brush her hair behind her ear, and she made a face.

"Not like this. If it's up to you, we'd spend the entire night staring into each other's eyes."

"Oh yeah?" Ben challenged, though he chuckled at his inability to deny that. "And if it's up to you, you'd celebrate by teasing me for as long as you could get away with."

"That's fair," said Mal. She straddled his lap and pushed him down flat. "Well, marriage is all about compromising, right? Let's try that."

He smirked. "Fine by me."

Mal leaned over him, brushing her lips lightly against his. She watched the corners of his mouth quirk up in a soft smile. She could see the worry lines and inhibitions melt away, and realized that the wait had not been kind to him. "I should've married you a long time ago."

Ben nuzzled her cheek, murmuring, "Better late than never."

Unbeknownst to them, the news of their engagement had already leaked out. Adam felt it was better that it came from him than from the miffed Atlanteans. He was careful to say the phrase "...first fairy queen in recent history..." The papers Mal read the next day, to her utter surprise and relief, had run with it.

"THE FAIRY QUEEN!"


	3. Sometimes he goes away

**Thank you all for the reviews! I don't mean to make all of these sad, or short. I hope you'll still consider reading future additions to this collection!**

* * *

Sometimes, Ben goes away.

Mal noticed after the birth of their first great-grandchild. He'd been so happy. So had she, to an extent. There was an unmentioned sadness, though, at being so far removed from this new person. Not her child. Not her grandchild. But her great-grandchild. She would never have a significant role in this baby's life.

When the baby was twenty-four hours old, Ben had asked her, "When is Maria due again?"

At least he'd been ecstatic all over again when she'd told him his granddaughter had given birth the day before.

Nowadays it's more frequent, and magic isn't helping. She knows he's gone when he's sitting in his favorite armchair, staring out of the window, his brow furrowed in confusion because there's snow outside but in his head it's summer. She knows he's gone when their daughter walks in and for several minutes he keeps remarking in his now-raspy voice that she's "grown up so fast. Too fast. How old are you?" She knows he's gone when he asks whether she thinks Jay would be up for a fencing rematch, though Jay had passed on years ago and Ben is confined to a wheelchair.

She doesn't let him see her cry. Every time he goes, it's like losing him. One day he won't come back, she knows. One day he'll forget everything. She has been with him for most of her life. She doesn't know what she will do. But she excuses herself, forces her aching bones out of a chair with the help of a walker, and hobbles to the bathroom. She isn't sure if he knows he's lost, or if he remembers that he'd left for a while. Just in case, she makes sure he never sees her fear.

Instead, when she is with him, she cherishes the last days they have together. They laugh at the antics of their younger grandchildren. They gorge on treats because diabetes is a young person's disease. They play cards. They advise their grandchildren using their years on the throne as experience. They see Doug once in a while, and their godchildren. They cannot walk much anymore, but people come to them and so the time passes. These are not the best years of their lives, but they are still good years. Every year with Ben is a good year.

One day she's painting, despite the tremors in her hands. The thick paper is on the table in front of her. Ben is sitting beside her, stealing her watercolors and occasionally her skill to make his work look better. And then he stops.

Mal looks at him and she knows, with a deep horror, that he has gone decades back in time. He frowns at his paper, at his liver-spotted fingers. Then he smiles in understanding. "Is this another one of your pranks, Mal? You know Fairy Godmother'll flip if she sees me like this."

She is not fast enough to leave before the tears come. She tries to stay silent, and look away, but it is too late. A drop has fallen onto her paper. Ben notices.

"Mal?" He's back. "Mal, why are you crying?"

She wipes her eyes and steels her heart, feigning cheerfulness. "You made a joke, Ben. I was just laughing too hard."

"You're lying." He grabs her hand and makes her meet his gaze. "I did it again, didn't I?"

Her curiosity beats out the other emotions. "You know?"

"Sometimes." Ben squeezes her hand weakly, as the muscle has wasted away and his strength isn't what it used to be. "Sometimes I come back and minutes have gone by and I don't know where they went. It scares me. It scares you too, doesn't it?" Her lower lip trembles. She cannot tell him how much. He smiles again. "Don't be scared, Mal. No matter how often I go away, no matter how far I go, I'll never forget you. Never."

More teardrops fall on her paper, and a few on his. They hold hands, silently contemplating the closeness of the inevitable. They'd led full lives, but it is still hard.

A few nights later they are helped into bed by attendants. They share true love's kiss one last time and fall asleep smiling in each other's arms. They do not wake up again.

Ben kept his promise - he never forgot her. Ben always kept his promises.


	4. Eleven (AU)

**A happier one! Also I give up on trying to make these related so this is AU Bal. Sorry (not sorry) for the mild Audrey-bashing.**

* * *

Ben was surprised when he pulled up to an unremarkable apartment complex. Lonnie said this girl was the daughter of some-business-magnate-or-other and he'd expected a more extravagant living space. But this was kind of nice - maybe choosing one of these apartments meant she was down-to-earth and practical.

It had been a while since Ben had been on a date. _Quit working so hard_ , his father had admonished. _People your age are supposed to have fun and be irresponsible._ He'd argued - it wasn't like he was unhappy. And frankly he hadn't met anyone all that interesting. But Ben's mother had gone behind his back and asked his friends to set up a blind date for him, so here he was. He had little reason to be anxious; he was a friendly guy and almost always one of the first people to greet new clients at his father's firm because of it. Still, that was business and the connections were superficial. He didn't have a lot of practice going beyond that.

Lonnie had mentioned this girl liked flowers, so he'd picked up a bouquet on the way. Roses in hand, he walked up the metal stairwell to number 203. Before he rang the doorbell, he straightened his tie and took a deep breath. It was fine, even if this was a total disaster. No pressure. Just try to have fun and be irresponsible.

The girl who opened the door further shocked him, on multiple levels. She was breathtakingly beautiful, which would've rendered him speechless for half a second on its own - bright green eyes large enough that he could see golden flecks in her irises; clear, pale skin; soft, full lips. Additionally, her wavy hair was dyed a deep purple. She wore a purple leather jacket and dark, skintight jeans, which would have been fine - she pulled it off really well, actually - if Ben wasn't dressed in business casual for this date.

The tenant folded her arms and leaned against the door frame. Despite a raised eyebrow, she looked as calm and collected as Ben wished he was. "Um...hello."

"Hey, um...Audrey?"

"No." Her lips twisted into a small smile. "Are you lost?"

"Apparently." He was flooded with equal amounts of disappointment and relief. "That, or someone gave me the wrong address."

Her gaze flitted quickly from his face, to the flowers in his hand, down the rest of his body, and then back up. "I doubt that." He didn't know how to reply, and instead focused on hiding his flush. "What address did she give you?"

"Um, it was a mutual friend, actually, so she might've gotten it wrong..." Ben fished his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it to show her the text. Not-Audrey nodded in understanding.

"They didn't tell you if it was North Marshall street or South. Try going north; you'll probably find it."

A woman's voice came from deeper inside the apartment. "Em? Who is it?"

"Someone looking for directions," she called back. Then she turned to Ben. "Good luck."

"Thanks, Em...Emma?"

"M, for Mal," the girl corrected. "You're welcome...?"

"Ben." He stuck out his hand, realizing belatedly he was mechanically going through the steps of a client meeting. She raised an eyebrow at him again, and he pulled back in embarrassment. "Sorry. Habit."

Mal's smile was a little bigger this time. "Nervous?" How did she know he'd momentarily turned into putty in front of her? He stared blankly, trying to figure out if she really wanted an answer, before she added, "About your date."

"Oh. Is it really obvious?"

"Relax. She probably is, too. Maybe try not to throw up." That managed to get a chuckle out of him. "And if it doesn't work out, I'd be happy to take those roses off your hands."

He didn't really know what emboldened him to do it, but he pulled one of the roses out of the bouquet and gave it to her. "Well, you can have this one. As a thank you."

Perhaps it was the red color of the flower reflecting off her skin as she held it under her nose, but she appeared to be blushing a little. Ben considered that a victory. "Won't she notice you're one short of a dozen?"

"If that matters, then this date isn't going to go that well anyway."

Mal hummed in agreement. "Have fun."

The farther Ben got from that apartment, the calmer he felt. It hadn't been a bad sort of buzzing excitement, but he was glad to be back in control of himself. Taking her advice, he turned left out of the parking lot and watched the street address numbers go down, and then back up.

This time, he did indeed stop in front of a building full of luxury condos. He was greeted by a doorman on his way in, and had to wait at the front desk so the attendant could direct him to the correct elevator. The tenant of apartment 203 was much more along the lines of what he expected - a pretty, tanned brunette in a pastel designer dress. She confirmed that she was really Audrey and invited him in.

"How sweet!" she said as he handed her the roses. "But you got ripped off. There are only eleven."

Ben paused before replying - after all, there was no way anyone would be able to tell at first glance. Did she count them? "Actually, I got lost on the way here and someone gave me directions, so I gave one to her."

"Oh, I see." Audrey had a vase already prepared with water - Ben idly wondered what would've happened if he turned up without anything. She placed the roses inside and then took a step back to analyze it. "That's alright, it's not that obvious."

He was about to laugh it off, but it turned out she was serious. He cleared his throat instead and asked, "So, anywhere in particular you'd like to go?"

Audrey frowned for a brief second, and then asked casually, "Did you make reservations anywhere?"

Something about that made it sound like a trick question. "Oh, uh, no. I didn't really know what you liked; I thought maybe we could decide together."

"That's considerate of you," she complimented politely. "It's just that there aren't a lot of restaurants worth going to in this town that let you walk right in. I can try to ask for a favor from some of my regular spots, but I can't guarantee we'll get a table." Before Ben could respond, she began digging around in her purse for her phone. "Bilute is wonderful, the chef's known for a sort of French-Puerto Rican fusion. But on a Saturday night they're pretty packed. Maybe BonFire? They're one of those gastronomy bars, have you been? It's pretty cute but the atmosphere is more 'girl's night out.' Hmm, where else..."

This was getting a little bit overwhelming. Ben had expected a sit-down dinner, but these were places that regularly charged hundreds of dollars per meal and he had never set foot in one before. "I saw an Italian place down the street that looked nice," he suggested. "The parking lot wasn't too full, so they might have space."

She gave him a placating smile. "You mean Rosebud? That's not really - I mean I'm sure it's fine, but I'd rather not be seen there. You understand, right? Lonnie said your parents owned a firm I've actually heard of so I assume they're pretty well off. I'm sure they don't go places like that either."

Oh boy. Ben realized saying his favorite place to eat was Chipotle was probably a no-go. "I...okay. We don't have to go there."

Audrey considered him for a second, and then said, "Why don't we reschedule for a different day? I'm sure - "

"Yeah, that sounds good!" Ben agreed, too fast. "Um, I mean, we'll probably get into one of those restaurants you wanted."

"Mm-hmm. Let's do that. I'll give you my number and we can set it up."

Ben felt horrible about it, but he knew he was never going on that date. He got back into his car and exhaled slowly. Either Lonnie didn't know him that well, or this was some kind of joke. Probably the former, since as his own father had remarked, he didn't really go out much.

A tiny voice in the back of his head told him that this night didn't have to end on a bad note. Before his courage left him, Ben returned to the previous apartment complex, bounded up the stairs, and rang the doorbell.

Mal opened the door again, surprised to see him. "Ben?"

He grinned sheepishly. "She noticed."

His heart hammered in his chest when she grinned back and opened the door wider. "I guess you'll have to come get it, then." Looking inside, he could see the rose had been placed in an empty beer bottle on a small kitchen table.

"I was actually hoping I could bring you another eleven tomorrow."

She stepped aside to let him in. "In that case, you're going to have to help me finish a lot more beer tonight."


	5. His Fatal Flaw

**This was a long one! The idea was to look at how Mal supports Ben and the role she plays in their relationship. While writing this I was thinking about the other fandom I used to write for - Teen Titans - and realized that Mal is a lot like Raven: purple hair, sorceress, daughter of the worst villain ever. And Ben is a literal Beast Boy, though they don't really share the same personality. I just find it funny that the ship crosses fandoms like that.**

* * *

Ben and Mal decided early on in their relationship that they would not watch romantic tragedies, because as the credits rolled the king would complain of a 'runny nose' or 'something in my eye.' That was fine, as Mal didn't enjoy those movies much either, but she found those times - when he tried to deny how much trouble his vast capacity for empathy would get him in - quite funny.

This was not one of those times.

When Ben heard the news, he stood up stiffly, calling an unplanned recess, and walked out of the council meeting. Mal followed him, ignoring the stares of the other councilmen and councilwomen. She locked the door of their bedroom and sat next to him on the bed, letting him rest his head on her shoulder as tears welled in his eyes. And then he was overtly sobbing, shoulders shaking and chest heaving.

Mal stroked his exposed cheek silently. She knew what he was thinking. _My fault my fault my fault my fault._ She knew nothing she said would make it any better, because she learned the hard way that blunt, impatient reasoning was not the correct way to approach grief in Auradon. Instead of _you weren't the one who killed her_ she was supposed to say _I know this is hard_ _._ Instead of _you weren't the only one who petitioned for his release_ she was supposed to say _I'm so sorry this happened._ It was ridiculous, and she would much rather stay quiet than partake in any of that unhelpfulness.

Normally she would fix whatever was wrong, with magic if necessary. The magic required to bring a five year old girl back from the dead, however, was dark enough to be on the far end of a scale from "one" to "human sacrifice." Mal couldn't, wouldn't dabble in black magic, not even to soothe Ben's conscience. The risks were too great, the requirements horrendous, the change in her permanent, and the results sickeningly twisted.

So she did nothing besides hold him until he cried himself out of tears, soaking the sleeve of her blouse. He remained leaning on her until he calmed himself and evened out his breathing. Fifteen minutes passed before he straightened of his own volition, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

Mal stood up and went to the bathroom to run a napkin under cold water, and then returned to dab under his eyes and reduce the puffiness. "Are you ready?" she asked quietly, knowing no one could ever be ready for what he had to do, let alone the man who found any harm to children so inexcusably monstrous that he'd changed a twenty-year-old law and threatened the safety of his kingdom to make sure it didn't happen.

"Yes." His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat a couple of times. "Yes." Ben took a deep breath and fixed his slumped posture, donning the stern face of an angry king like a mask. "Let's go."

When they reentered, the people remaining in the room began murmuring. He silenced them with a look.

"Where is the prisoner?" Ben demanded of a guard.

"He is being held in the dungeons, sire."

"Bring him here."

"Yes, sire."

As the guard left, Ben more gently questioned, "Has anyone seen the girl's father?"

"He was with the crowd that brought the prisoner in, Your Majesty," one of the councilwomen informed him. "He is waiting to hear what will be done."

Mal had to admire her husband's composure, despite the situation. "Bring him as well."

The royal couple took their seats at the round table. Mal squeezed Ben's hand lightly, out of sight of the others. _I'm here for you._

The murderer was brought in wearing manacles, and led through an opening in the table to the empty space in the middle, where he could be seen by all present. The man in front of them was thin and mean, with a limp he'd acquired from some trauma during his time on the Isle. His clothes and shoes would have looked brand new, as he'd only been back in Auradon for a week, if not for the spatter of blood across his front. He'd grown the hair on his head and face out in an effort to make himself look bigger. Mal was familiar with that adaptation. She saw him for what he really was.

Two guards stood on either side of him. Ben glared coldly. "Francis Patou, you stand before us accused of murder. As evidence we have the body of the victim and the witness statements of nine people."

The doors to the chamber opened again, and a third guard ushered in a middle-aged man with blood soaked clothes and bloody hand prints on his face. He'd clearly been crying as well. Upon seeing Francis Patou, he wailed incoherently and covered his face with his hands - also bloody, explaining where the hand prints had come from. The guard urged him to be quiet, and led him to a chair some distance away from the council table. The man collapsed, still hiding his face, and the guard stayed to stand watch over him.

Ben's attention returned to the irate felon in front of him. "State your case," he said tersely.

"Look, Your Majesty, I told her so many times to get the hell off of my territory - my land, I mean. She wouldn't listen. I meant to give her a whopping beating so she'd remember. Didn't mean to kill her."

"The reports say you hit her in the head with a _shovel_." Ben was losing control - there was a deep growl to his voice that no one missed. Mal gave his hand another squeeze.

"Well, yeah, meant to break her arm - the one she's always throwing balls and shit with onto my property. She moved, see. Her fault, you know."

"HOW DARE YOU!" the man from the back screamed. The guard held him down. "SHE WAS FIVE YEARS OLD!"

"Maybe you shoulda beat her more! She'd've learned to listen better, and we wouldn't be here!" Patou shouted back.

Ben slammed his fist on the table. "You will be silent unless asked to speak," he spat. "You were given a second chance in Auradon. You use it to kill a young girl and show no remorse for your actions. Therefore - "

"Was your dad who put me on that island in the first place!" Patou argued heatedly. "For being the getaway driver in some stupid, small-time heist! I had to learn to survive. You enter another man's territory and you die, it's simple. She didn't _listen._ You wanna know what we do on the Isle to people who don't listen?"

"I already know." Mal had interjected in a soft, dangerous voice that made Patou swallow his words and sent shivers down the spines of the council members. "I was put on that island for being _born._ I was there for eight years longer than you were. And I've managed not to kill anybody." Not for lack of trying, considering the plot she and her friends had hatched upon coming to Auradon, but she'd made the right decision in the end. She cocked her head, her eyes flashing. "This council had been convinced - by your mother, who also now wants nothing to do with you - that your punishment was too severe for your crime. That you could be a law-abiding citizen." She leaned forward. "But you can't. You've cost a little girl her life. You belong back on the Isle, where there are no children for you to hurt."

* * *

The hardest part was yet to come. Patou had been taken away, due to be shipped back to the Isle of the Lost when the next boat left. Ben's anger had vanished with the prisoner, and all that remained was a deep and terrible guilt.

Mal was at his side when he approached the girl's father. "Mr. Renaud, I'm so sorry for your loss. Auradon grieves with you today." It was only because she knew him so well that Mal could detect the tiniest wobble of her husband's voice while conveying the sentiment. To anyone else, including the broken man in front of them, he had delivered a perfectly crafted royal apology - and it was nowhere near enough.

"You...you're _sorry_? This is _your fault_ ," Renaud rasped, pointing a shaky finger at the stricken king. "You should never have brought him back. Lila died because of YOU." He covered his face again, weeping. "She was all I had left! She was my only family, my only child!"

"Mr. Renaud - " Mal stopped Ben from saying anything more. Nothing would would make it better.

"Get him some water and a change of clothes," Mal instructed his unofficially appointed guard. "We are making preparations for his daughter's funeral - once he calms down, ask if there are any religious rites that need to be performed."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Mal took Ben's arm and guided him to his office, as her husband had suddenly lost the will to conduct any voluntary movement. "Ben?" She had him sit in a chair, and then took off his crown so she could stroke his hair. She wanted to give him the break he needed to let out how he really felt, before he had to wear the mask again in front of his subjects. "Do you want to talk?"

For a while he didn't, and then, "Her name was Lila."

Mal had expected worse. "Yeah."

"She...she was just a little girl."

"Some people are just that evil," she replied quietly.

"But how did I not see that?!" In a split second he was agitated again, clenching his fists and glaring down at them. "I should've known. I should've done more research. I should have talked to him myself before he came here."

Mal couldn't help but argue, though she knew evidence wouldn't get through to him at that moment. "We had two separate psychologists interview him. We had a character statement from his neighbors, who'd known him since he was a kid. And his mother - she's a good person. He checked out on paper. We couldn't have known the laws of the Isle would follow him here."

"I knew the Isle wasn't meant to rehabilitate. I knew that from the start," Ben maintained stubbornly. "That man lost his daughter...and he's right. It's my fault she's...gone."

Mal was finding it harder and harder to be the silent, supportive listener. "It is _not_ your fault." He wasn't being rational. If it had been anyone else who issued the pardon, he would easily see that this hadn't been preventable. "It's not like - " She bit her lip to keep herself from saying more.

Ben didn't notice, still in the depths of despair. "And he had to see her body like that. The horrible way she died."

 _At least it was quick. She probably didn't even feel pain._ Mal had the good sense not to mention that, though. It would have been consolation on the Isle, where deaths could be cruelly dragged out over days. In Auradon, it also fell into the category of _not helpful._ So she kept her mouth shut because she'd lost the ability to console him, if she ever had it. All of the thoughts that flitted into her head were getting less and less understanding. _There's nothing you can do now. We can't go back in time. Punishing yourself isn't going to make anything better. Stop thinking about it. Stop. I hate to see you like this. I hate that you care as much as that man does. I hate that you're feeling all the things he's feeling and there's nothing I can do about it._ _I've made this about me now._

Mal had just brought Ben's head to rest on her hip when someone knocked on the office door. The two of them separated, and Ben donned his crown again. "Come in," he called, a strength he didn't have behind his voice.

Lumiere entered. "Your Majesty. The funeral director has arrived and is waiting with the mortician to discuss arrangements."

Before Ben could say anything, Mal volunteered, "Have them meet me in the main conference room. I'll be there soon." Lumiere bowed and closed the door behind him.

"Mal..."

Worse than leaving him alone would be having him in that room. Mal shook her head. "You have things to do here. Come to bed in an hour, okay?" The 'things to do' involved writing condolences to be delivered at the funeral, and retracting the proclamation that allowed a convicted criminal from the Isle to be returned to Auradon. She wished she could be by his side while he did it.

"I'll be fine," he told her, his tone deceptively reassuring. Mal knew better.

"Don't lie to me. Not to me," she reminded him gently. Ben faltered, but nodded. She left.

* * *

It had been over two hours before her meeting had finished. A coffin - heartbreakingly small - made of white ash had been decided on. The family's priest had been contacted and he agreed to preside over the services. Over the phone, they chose Bible verses that seemed relevant from what the priest knew about Lila. The mortician had been working with the body as soon as it had been cleared by autopsy, and was sure he would be able to cover up the sickening fatal wound by the next morning. During the last half, Lila's father had been escorted in and asked for his daughter to be buried with her favorite doll. He said nothing else for the rest of the meeting, staring tearfully at the blank stretch of table before him. The funeral director and mortician, well versed in dealing with grieving family members, did most of the talking when a question needed to be directed at Mr. Renaud. Mal had a feeling anything she said would only make the situation worse.

After the burial site was decided and paid for, it was nearly ten at night. Mal offered a room in the palace to Mr. Renaud - he declined nosielessly and walked out the door.

Exhausted, Mal climbed a set of stairs and trekked down a corridor to reach her and Ben's bedroom. When she entered, she found Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, looking every bit as lost as Lila's father had during the meeting.

"Were you able to finish?" she asked cautiously.

He shrugged. "I sent what I had to the council to be approved...and I've only written a few lines for tomorrow." He finally made eye contact with her. "I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight and I don't want to disturb you, so I'll keep working in the office. I just wanted to let you know so you wouldn't worry about where I was."

She came and sat down next to him, covering one of his hands with her own. "I think you should stay here tonight."

"No...I'll just keep you awake."

"I'm okay with that. I just...I would feel better if...we were together." Mushiness was not her forte. She regretted not learning how to express herself in less dire situations.

Ben glanced at her sharply. "Are you okay?" His face fell. "I didn't even ask."

"Because you know," she assured him. "You know I'm okay. Just like I know you're not. And you also probably know that I...worry about you, in times like this. So...please?"

He was too drained to fight her on it, and agreed to get changed and at least lie down next to her. Mal did the same, pulling the covers over both of them. She turned on her side so she could watch him. He was staring at the ceiling, his gaze unwavering. Ben was trapped in his own mind, alone, despite her presence. She didn't know how to get through to him. It was suffocating, this barrier he'd put up without realizing it. She wondered if that was how he had felt early in their relationship, when she'd been working through so much trauma and impulsively shut down far too often.

"Please talk to me." Mal hadn't meant to say it, but this feeling of being so far away from him was one she couldn't take.

Ben looked at her, but she knew his thoughts were elsewhere - between two small houses, on a patch of lawn red-brown with the blood of an innocent. Still, he didn't refuse. "I'm just...I'm so tired," he sighed. Though he didn't continue, Mal knew what he meant. Tired of messing up. Tired of the responsibility. Tired of never having a clean conscience. Mal could live with tragedy - he couldn't. Ben shook his head and changed the subject. "You're not going to try to sleep?"

"I will." She laid her palm flat on his chest and spread her fingers, biting her lip before saying, "Let me help you."

"No." His answer was immediate. He lifted her hand and held it in his own, very politely impeding her ability to cast any sleeping spells.

 _You need to rest. Don't be stupid about this, like you're doing some sort of penance. Tomorrow's only going to be worse._ "Okay," she answered instead, shifting to rest her head on his chest instead and hug him around the waist. "You're a good king, Ben. Every decision you make, you make because you care. You can't control what other people do. All you can do is keep being a good king...keep being you."

Ben gave no indication that he was listening. It didn't matter. He knew all of this already, though he was currently refusing to acknowledge it. The problem was more immediate - the girl who hadn't had a chance to grow up. Mal wished there was a magic phrase - figuratively, as there were plenty of amnesia curses - that would heal that particular wound of his. She raised her head and kissed him softly, gratified when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Then she returned to her previous position.

After a few minutes, he murmured, "Good night, Mal. I love you."

"I love you too." She knew he was still awake when she dozed off, because the last thing she could remember was his thumb slowly stroking the back of her arm.

* * *

Ben had eventually succumbed to a fitful sleep, as Mal saw when she woke up the next morning. For a while she didn't dare move for fear of waking him up, wanting to give him those few precious moments before he had to face reality.

Carefully, she slipped out of his embrace, eliciting only some irritated, unintelligible muttering. She felt a brief, tight pressure in her chest that only Ben could evoke. If it had been any other morning, she would've smiled fondly at her sleep-talking husband. Today, she could only think of the funeral that would eat him alive two hours from now.

Mal brushed her teeth, showered, and combed her hair, deciding a bun was an appropriately subdued hairstyle for a funeral. She had a very plain short-sleeved black dress that came down below her knees. It was a little tight for the event, but it would have to do. Once eight a.m. rolled around, she finally leaned over Ben's side of the bed and shook him awake.

It was horrible to see him rub the sleep out of his eyes, groggily smile at her, and then start to ask, "Why are you - " only for the light to go out of his eyes when he belatedly remembered the happenings of the day before. He slumped back into the mattress. Mal forgot - again - Mrs. Potts' frequent reminders to not wrinkle her clothes before large events and sat on the bed next to him, taking his hand in hers.

"We've got about an hour," she told him softly. "Do you want to sleep some more?"

It was a stupid question, but she didn't know what else to say. Ben declined, and Mal let him get ready while she asked for someone to send in a light breakfast. He changed into a black suit - the only one he had. Mal didn't like black on him. It made him look even less like himself.

"Eat something. Some fruit, some toast, anything," urged Mal. Before he protested, she added, "You'll focus better if you aren't hungry."

She looked over his remarks while he forced down some orange juice. She added a couple of things and ran them by him to make sure they were appropriately sympathetic. They walked out together, with Mal taking his arm and trying not to be too blunt.

"Don't take the blame during your speech, Ben. Please. It's already a tragedy and you know there are going to be people trying to make it a conspiracy." Part of her reasoning was selfish. No one in Auradon had forgotten her origins, or those of the other Isle children. This proclamation - vastly different from taking innocent people off the Isle - would undoubtedly call into question, yet again, the ability of any islander to be a law-abiding citizen. Ben was responsible for both decrees, and was married to the daughter of a villain. He had to be careful, or people would be questioning his intentions as well.

"It doesn't matter who gets blamed. She's still gone." And so was he. Still distant, still inconsolably troubled, still dwelling on her death and unable to see the consequences.

"It does matter, and not just for that reason. You need to understand that it's not your fault. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"But if I don't show remorse for her, who will? Patou?" His voice broke a little, cracking that shell of despair enough that she could reach out to him, if only for a moment.

"He's the only one that should. Remorse is for people who've done something wrong. Not for you."

Despite her effort, Ben tensed again when they climbed into the limo, clenching his jaw the entire ride. Mal felt as though any noise from her would startle him; it seemed like he'd blocked out the fact that she or the driver were in the car at all. Frankly, even her stomach plummeted as they arrived at the small church. It had been a long time since she'd watched the burial of someone so young.

The church's interior had been beautifully decorated, considering the short notice. A large photo of Lila sat on an easel in front, next to the coffin. This was the first Mal had seen of her likeness. The girl had had short, brown hair and wide, innocent eyes. Also featured in the picture was the doll she was to be buried with.

Mal and Ben walked between the pews and sat near the front, unfortunately causing a distraction since everyone had to stand as they passed. At least the service hadn't started. Guy Renaud, Lila's father, sat in front on the opposite side. He was crying, but there was a grim determination in his expression that Mal found disconcerting. She hoped he hadn't spent the night alone.

The priest spoke, and then Renaud, then a few neighbors and family friends, and finally Ben. Mal went up with him for support. Dignified and regal, as only someone with his upbringing could pretend to be, Ben began, "Yesterday, Auradon lost a child: a happy, carefree, warm-hearted girl who had the entire world in front of her. Her death was - was the worst kind of injustice. Children in Auradon are born with the unalienable right to grow up safe, but this right was taken away from Lila. In her short life she was loved by many..." He continued, but Mal could not take her eyes off Renaud. He'd fixated on Ben. Tears no longer fell from his puffy, red eyes. There was something else there, something that put her on edge.

Her powers of observation had certainly dulled since living in the safe haven of Auradon, but they were not gone completely. She surreptitiously watched the grieving father long after Ben's speech had ended, as he was comforted by friends and family. The royal couple had decided to wait until the family and friends had expressed their condolences, but curiously, Renaud actually approached them.

Mal's eyes narrowed. There was something stiffer about his walk as he came towards her, almost like a limp. He was wearing an old suit, but the jacket did not fit him well, as if he had lost thirty pounds since the last time he'd worn it - _or if it's someone else's_ , Mal thought. The suit pants were appropriately fitted. If she looked closely, she could see the faint impression of something thin and flat against the fabric whenever he brought forth his right leg.

"Your Majesties," he greeted softly, right when Mal deduced what he was hiding. Renaud's overall countenance suddenly made sense to her when he unconsciously brushed at his right hip.

 _Protect the victim from this blade  
Soften the steel from which it was made_

With an almost imperceptible flick of her finger, the knife he'd stuffed in his pants took on the consistency of rubber. It still retained its shape, however, and the spell went unnoticed by Renaud.

"Mr. Renaud," Ben returned with a nod. "Please let us know if there is anything we can do during this difficult time."

The other man opened his mouth to say something, and his hand went for his hip again. For a brief moment, Mal prepared herself to fight. All of a sudden his arm fell limp, and tears welled in his eyes. "You've already done enough." Shaking and clenching his fists, he walked to the front to help carry the coffin. Mal wondered if he knew that comment had hurt Ben as much as a stab would have.

Renaud did not attempt anything again. After the burial, Mal and Ben returned to the limo, and only then did she say, "He was going to try to kill you."

Ben was surprised for a brief second. "How?"

"He had a knife on him. A little smaller than a steak knife, by the look of it."

The king slumped back. "I guess that makes sense. He still blames me."

"Whether it makes sense or not isn't the issue. He wanted to assassinate the king," Mal argued, unsatisfied with his reaction. "For no good reason! We can't just brush that off!"

"We can, and we will," Ben replied firmly. "He didn't go through with it. It didn't happen. No one else needs to know about this."

* * *

For obvious reasons, Ben hadn't slept enough the night before to prevent him dozing off in the middle of the day. Mal waited for that opportunity to leave the castle and have a driver drop her off at an address near the church.

When she rang the doorbell, Guy Renaud answered. He was still wearing his funeral attire, and had a faint smell of alcohol about him. She noticed a flicker of fear cross his features before he regained control of his expression. "Your Majesty," he mumbled. "What do you want?"

"I think you know. Can I come in?"

He stepped aside and she entered the small two-story house. The evidence of Lila's life was still there - some toys strewn about the rooms, small pairs of shoes near the front door, a pink hairbrush left on the table next to a three-fourths full bottle of whiskey. At least he wasn't too drunk to have this conversation.

"Where is it?" she asked him.

Renaud hesitated, but led her to the kitchen and produced the offending blade. Mal was able to bend it in every which direction without resistance. She cast the counter-spell and returned the fully-functional knife to him.

"You're giving it back?" he asked cautiously.

"It's a nice knife. No reason you can't still use it - for food, I mean." And also, she'd had time to calm down and think about how to approach this problem. Without being invited, she sat at the kitchen table, poured a little more whiskey into the waiting glass, and held it out to him expectantly.

Renaud took it, and sat across from her. Every one of his movements was slow and calculated, like an injured animal. "Are you here to arrest me?"

"No. We have guards to do that." She jutted her chin out. "Go ahead. Drink."

He didn't. "Then why are you here?"

"Because people rage-planning assassinations don't do it in company. And you shouldn't be alone today." She got up and found herself another glass, pouring an ounce of whiskey into it and taking a sip. It was not good whiskey. "You shouldn't have sent all your friends home."

"I didn't want them to be involved in this."

"I figured. But you still shouldn't have. You're lucky this is awful," she said, pointing at the bottle. "Otherwise you'd have drunk enough to poison yourself with no one to stop you."

"My apologies," he rebutted angrily, "that the drinks I can afford are not good enough for Your Majesty."

"You know that's not what I meant," Mal said softly. "I've had worse. Much worse. Actual poison." He was stewing, but didn't lash out again. "Tell me about her."

"Why?"

She finished off her glass and poured another, equally small amount. "When the first four of us came from the Isle, we didn't know that what we'd been through was going to affect us for the rest of our lives. King Ben did. He had us visit psychologists every week, for years. I've learned some things from that time, and one of those things is that grieving people need to talk. I didn't learn how to sugarcoat or be all roundabout and indirect about getting answers, so I'm just going to be straight with you. Tell me about her."

Mal was counting on him being just uninhibited enough to put the hatred aside for a little while. Renaud swirled his drink around and finally gulped it down. Mal replenished it as he slurred, "She loved you, you know. Loved your hair. She'd run around with this purple T-shirt on her head and pretend to cast spells on everything. She would've loved to have met you. But here you are, a day too late."

The queen could only nod, but at least it encouraged him to talk, which eventually turned into rambling. Lila's mother had died soon after childbirth, he told her. Some sort of genetic disease that Lila hadn't inherited. The girl had loved to play with dolls. She'd had a good number of them besides the one that had gone in the coffin with her. Renaud had often been too busy at work to play with her, but they'd made a game of piggy-back rides to bond over.

Mal was basically a receptacle, no more than a vague humanoid figure that he could vent to. If he remembered she was the queen he hated so much, he didn't show it. She cut him off after one more glass of whiskey, wanting him to sober up a little bit. She filled his cup with water and urged him to drink it. After about an hour and three glasses of water, she said, "We need to talk about why you tried to assassinate Ben."

Renaud looked at her through bloodshot eyes like she was waiting to pounce. "I just wanted to hurt him," he whispered. "I want him to hurt like I'm hurting and...I want to get sent to the Isle and kill that bastard Patou myself."

* * *

Mal knocked on Ben's office door frame a couple of hours later, despite the door being open. Ben wasn't even seated, having gotten up to find extra paper for the printer. Upon seeing her, he dumped whatever was in his hands on his desk and closed the distance between them in a few quick steps. Before she could tell him why she'd come, he'd gathered her up in his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Where did you go?" he murmured. At last, Mal felt that barrier between them come toppling down. He was ready to let her in. Unfortunately, the timing wasn't great.

"I'm here now." She hugged him tightly for a brief second before adding, "I brought Guy Renaud."

Ben pulled away as if he'd been electrified, a transient panic crossing his features when he saw the aforementioned guest scowling at him from a few feet away. He straightened and put the king-mask back on, but it was too late.

"Incompetent and weak," Renaud muttered. "All hail the king."

Mal whipped around, eyes flashing bright green. Ben had already reached out to hold her back. "That's out of line," she snarled.

"Mal, it's fine - " Ben tried timidly.

She wasn't having it. She'd discussed it with Renaud before, while he was tipsy and a little more tractable, but as he sobered up his fury had returned, and at a magnitude she hadn't predicted. "I don't care if you attack me. I don't care if you attack Patou's mother or the psychologists or any one of the council members that unanimously voted to bring Patou back, but you don't get to attack Ben. He is your king, he didn't think twice about forgiving you for wanting to kill him, and he's the only one here who loses any sleep over what happened."

"Because it's his fault!" Renaud accused.

"No it isn't, and if you need me to explain that to you then you're an idiot."

"Mal!" Ben grasped her shoulders firmly from behind. " _He just lost his daughter._ "

"I know he did. I know he's angry. Angry people look for easy targets. And you - " She turned, jabbing her husband in the chest with her finger. " - are making yourself an easy target, Ben, acting like you've murdered someone when all you did was show mercy. You didn't do anything wrong." She faced Renaud again. "Do you understand? This is not the man who killed your daughter. And he doesn't need you to blame him on top of how much he blames himself."

So much for all of her effort trying not to do things 'the Isle way.' Being sympathetic to the point of insanity had worn her patience thin. It felt good to finally wave the truth in front of people's faces, however insensitive it seemed. Renaud, at least, swallowed the rest of his words and crossed his arms, resigning himself to glaring daggers at her. Ben didn't argue either, allowing her to take his hand and lead them back into his office. She deposited him in his chair, electing to stand next to him so she could place a comforting hand on his shoulder while Renaud reluctantly took a seat on the other side of the desk.

"The reason that Guy is here," Mal began, "is because he wants to turn himself in for his assassination attempt. He wants to go to the Isle and find Patou."

Ben gave him a sharp look. "Absolutely not." Renaud opened his mouth, but Ben held up a hand to silence him - his natural authority still shut Renaud up in spite of previous remarks about incompetence and weakness. "You brought a knife to a state funeral, which is ill-advised but not illegal. I'm pretty sure even Queen Mal had a knife on her." That much was true. Old habits died hard.

"But I was going to - '

"You didn't," Ben said shortly. He looked at Mal. "Did you tell him?"

"I tried."

"If you mean her horror stories, I don't care," interjected Renaud, frustrated that he was unable to stop tearing up. "If I die on that rock, so be it. At least I'll see my wife and child again."

Mal squeezed Ben's shoulder. That statement set _her_ stomach to twisting uncomfortably; who knew what it did to Ben?

The king took a deep breath, and then explained slowly. "Well, then I won't repeat those stories. You should know that death isn't the worst thing on that island. After we started taking the kids off the Isle, things got worse. Whatever Mal told you is outdated because now, there is _no one_ left with any good in them. But we'll put aside the things they would do to you, and talk about what you would do to them. You want your revenge on Patou - I understand. You're in mourning. I would want the same thing. But have you thought about what happens after, if you manage to get to him? Do you know what murder does to those who commit it? Are you willing to be that person? And when you see your family again, will they accept what you've done?" Renaud's jaw dropped, though whether in offense or alarm, she couldn't tell. Ben continued, "And the longer you survive, the more evil things you'll have to do. You saw Patou at the trial. He's lost all sense of morality. He tricked us...all of us...into thinking that wasn't true, but to this day he hasn't shown an ounce of remorse. Can you handle becoming just like him?"

Mal supposed it was strange to feel so much pride at such a devastating time, but she couldn't help admiring how diplomatic Ben could be regardless of how much he was hurting. She knew her arguments hadn't been convincing and the reason why was now so obvious. Ben could tease out what mattered the most to this person and effectively persuade him in ways she could not. Granted, her previous methods had used a lot more violence or manipulation and her current methods involved the phrase 'because I'm the queen, that's why.' Only Ben had given Renaud pause. The grieving father was speechless. "I...I would never..."

"I would hope not. You're a good man. You know that killing Patou isn't the answer."

"Then what is?" Suddenly the anger had melted away, leaving a defeated, anguished man in front of them. He slumped in his chair and made no attempt to wipe away tears.

Ben, to his credit, never broke eye contact. "Whatever brings you peace."

* * *

"He didn't even thank you for not charging him with an assassination attempt," Mal muttered that night as they got ready for bed. "And he doesn't want to believe that you already in so much pain over this - he just keeps trying to make it worse. Like he thinks you're not even human."

"Mal..." Ben chewed on his lip while he thought about how to answer. "What happened was out of his control, and he sees me as someone who was in control and did nothing. Of course he's going to hate me."

"But he shouldn't!" she growled. "How is he so blind?"

"If I died, who would you blame?" Ben asked her. That shut her up quickly. "If it was an illness, would you blame the doctors who tried to save my life? If it was an assassination, would you blame the guards who couldn't intervene fast enough? You would. It's human nature." He motioned for her to lie down next to him. "We're not rational when it comes to grief."

"I don't like to think about you dying," Mal grumbled.

"I know. Sorry." He cupped her cheek and she covered his hand with hers.

"Are you...doing better?" ventured Mal.

Ben shrugged, or came as close to shrugging as he could while lying down. "I realized when I woke up that I wasn't doing my job. I left you to do it all alone. It was so easy to be miserable, but in the end it doesn't change anything. I should've been with you."

"I don't care about what I have to do, Ben. I just wish I knew how to make you feel better when you're so upset. I just want you to be okay."

He smiled, a welcome change from the desolate expressions he'd taken on for the past day and a half, and brought his arm down around her waist to pull her closer. "As long as I've got you, I'll always be okay." He kissed her softly before cuddling with her. "I love you so much."

* * *

It took several weeks, and a couple of more visits from Mal, before Guy Renaud was able to box up Lila's toys and clothes and donate them to the Children's Village, Auradon's orphanage. He'd come himself to deliver them, on a day when Mal and Ben were already visiting.

"Thank you, sir." Merryweather took the box from him. "The children will love them. I wish there had been different circumstances."

"Me too." He looked years older and had lost too much weight. With a forlorn glimpse at the box, he added, "There's no use to having them in the house anymore." Merryweather frowned sympathetically.

Mal watched a group of children approach them on the way to lunch, led by a chaperone. They shyly greeted the king and queen, and cast questioning glances at the other unfamiliar man.

"Kids, this is Mr. Renaud," Mal explained. "He brought some toys for you."

Their hesitations flew out the window with that phrase. "NEW TOYS!" Merryweather was immediately surrounded by tiny hands asking to see what was inside the box. The flustered caretaker was about to tell them off, but she caught Mal's eye and was silently instructed to glance at Renaud. He wistfully looked on as the children clambered over each other.

Merryweather set the box on the floor. "Be gentle!" she reminded them. "Don't push each other." Naturally none of the kids listened, and the meekest were jostled until they ended up on the periphery.

Once such girl, with short brown hair and wide innocent eyes, was biting her lip and looked ready to cry as the items were claimed by her peers. Renaud knelt down next to her, and pulled a doll out of his pocket. "This was one of my daughter's favorites," he told her. "Her name is Polly. Would you take care of Polly for me?"

"Sarah is deaf," Merryweather mentioned. "We've only just started teaching her to sign."

Nevertheless, the girl got the message. Her pout turned into a grin. She took the doll and clasped it to her chest, beaming at Renaud. It was the first time Mal had seen him smile.

"Mr. Renaud," Mal said over his shoulder, sensing opportunity, "The Children's Village is always looking for volunteers. These kids can be a handful...and a lot of them don't know what it's like to have a parent." She gave him a meaningful look. "Something to think about."

Renaud straightened and considered her. "Maybe one day," he answered finally, without elaborating. He turned to leave, and then turned back. "Queen Mal, that doll was meant for you, actually. Lila...Lila chose a good role model. I hope you remember her, regardless."

Throughout this entire ordeal, Mal had been the rock. She hadn't let the emotions get to her. She'd been rational while everyone else was falling apart, because that's what was needed. But when he said that, she felt a prick behind her eyes. "That doll will do more good here. Don't worry; I won't forget her." He nodded and departed.

Ben laid a hand on her shoulder, and signaled to Merryweather that they would be going into a nearby empty room. "Are you okay?" he asked when they got there.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine," Mal said stubbornly.

He gave a soft laugh and wrapped her in a tight hug. "Of course you are, my incredible, wonderful wife." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

Mal buried her face in his chest and admitted shamefacedly, "I wouldn't have done anything about this if it didn't matter to you so much. I would've done the bare minimum."

"That's always an option," reasoned Ben. "But it's usually not the best option."

"I get that now." She tilted her head up so she could kiss him. "But this time, it was all because of you. I wish Renaud knew that."

"You're the one who put in the work, when I couldn't," he reminded her gently. "So him getting to where he is - that definitely was not all because of me. Whatever your reasons, you still acted the way any great queen should." He gave her a lopsided smile. "I'd go so far as to call you one of the top two queens in all of Auradon's history."

She laughed at that, though he didn't escape a mercifully weak shove. "I'm going to tell Belle you said I was better than her. I hope you get in trouble."

Ben pouted at the injustice of it all, which made her laugh again. She thought back to something Evie had once mentioned, in the middle of some tiff with Doug - that Mal was lucky Ben had no insecurities. Mal had simply agreed. The things that kept her husband up at night were far worse than personal shortcomings - but she was indeed lucky to be married to someone who cared so damn much.


	6. A Thing Of Beauty (AU)

**Sorry for the wait but this was another novel. Maybe should've made it a chapter story to flesh it out but too late now. I have a few things I wanted to let you guys know about -**

 **1) The first story in this collection has been edited, but only a little. If you scroll all the way down to the bottom of the chapter, you'll see! (I finally came up with a name I'm really happy with).**

 **2) Thanks so much to the guest reviewers - Eli201, Kate Cheese, EvelynGrimhilde6, and SusieBeast - for this story! I'm sorry I can't reply to your reviews but your kind words are always appreciated!**

 **3) I've had a lot of requests to continue Eleven, and I'm not totally sure about where that would go but I'll keep thinking!**

* * *

After school, Ben had started to come to the coffee shop near where he lived instead of heading home to his apartment. The soft, indistinct murmurs of other patrons made for a comfortable atmosphere and the lack of a bed or TV kept him from getting distracted. He'd spread his books and papers and laptop on a table otherwise for four people and studied until eight or nine at night, when he'd finally let himself go home, eat a late dinner, and relax a little.

This was his first year of law school and he was still trying to figure out a routine; so far this seemed to work well. He'd gotten a place in a rather hipster part of the city, but it was a fifteen minute walk from the University of Auradon and there were a lot of people his age out and about at all hours, which he liked. Though he'd only lived in this part of town for a month, he recognized faces in the businesses that he walked by regularly and always waved hello.

Four days in the coffee shop and he was already experiencing the same phenomenon. The baristas changed frequently, but some of the customers were practically part of the decor. One in particular, Ben couldn't help noticing, was a petite girl with dyed purple hair - not uncommon in these parts - who only ever looked up from the sketchbook in her hands to take a sip of her drink. She also sat alone, speaking to no one. Ben never saw her come in or leave - she was there even longer than he was. On day two they'd happened to be resting their strained eyes at the same time. Ben had been looking around, noting the change in the makeup of the modest crowd since the last time he'd surfaced. Their eyes had met for a split second - hers were a shocking green - and he'd reflexively smiled, but her gaze had passed over him with barely a pause. He remembered this particular incident because it was the first time he'd seen her face without her wavy hair obscuring it, and the first time he'd noticed that she was really pretty. Like, _really_ pretty.

In the few days after, it also kind of disappointed him that she, so obviously an artist, had seen nothing worth putting down on paper when she'd glanced in his direction.

On day three he'd been surprised to see her there again. She'd taken a break from drawing, with the coffee cup halfway to her mouth, when he'd walked in. His eyes were drawn to her immediately, and he smiled and waved as was his habit when meeting anyone, but she ignored him for a second time. He shrugged it off, used to shy people who balked at the idea of engaging a stranger, and took an empty seat to start studying. Very few people were as outgoing and friendly as he was and Ben had no desire to hold that against them.

Having gotten the message, on the fourth day he didn't try to address her again. He remained from four to nine, and then went home, satisfied with a good day's work.

He didn't anticipate Friday being such a problem. This particular shop had a live jazz band that performed on Fridays, which he found out as he walked in the door. The place wasn't packed, per se, but all the tables had at least a couple occupants - save for one. The artist had evidently gotten there early enough to have a table all to herself, and it was the only one with enough space for all of his things. Or so he told himself.

"Hi." Ben was cautious in his approach, knowing she was shy and not wanting to scare her. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

The girl looked up at him impassively. "No, that's fine." Her large eyes and button nose made her look innocent, but there was something mysterious and dangerous about her barely perceptible frown and the jut of her chin. When she spoke, a hint of a dimple shadowed the cheek that Ben could see. He'd never before attributed the words cute, beautiful, and sexy all to the same person.

"I'm Ben, by the way," he greeted cheerfully as he sat down and started removing materials from his backpack.

She'd gone back to drawing. "Mal."

"Nice to meet you, Mal. I moved here pretty recently, so I don't know a lot of people yet - "

"You study here, right?" Mal interrupted, not looking up.

Ben hadn't known she recognized him. "Um, yeah! After school every - "

"I'll try not to distract you." Her tone was clipped and her meaning clear. _It's you being distracting. Don't make me regret letting you sit here._

"Oh. Um, thanks." So not shy, then, just not interested in talking. That was fine too. She was right, he needed to focus anyway. The music wasn't too loud, and the extra people in the shop just made it part of the dull roar that worked like white noise for him. He tuned the rest of the world out and worked on his assignment, an objective analysis of a fictional case to be turned in the following Monday.

The band left around eight, after which the number of patrons jostling around to get a last coffee or having loud good-bye conversations messed with Ben's concentration. He packed up and chanced a "See you later," which she at least acknowledged with a nod.

The following week was more or less the same. He worked on his own after school until Friday, when the sudden spike in attendance forced him to bother her again. "I'll...um...try not to distract you," he offered. The corner of her mouth twitched and she let him stay.

The third week, as he was getting ready to leave, Mal startled him by asking, "What are you studying?" She was staring suspiciously at the title of his textbook.

"Law," he answered, "At U of A." Her scornful expression was not entirely shocking. She shook her head and almost dismissed him, but he added, "I'm studying to be a public defender."

Mal scoffed. "Bet that's what all the law students say when people question their morality."

Amused, Ben replied, "That's true. If I _were_ to lie about it, that's probably what I would say too."

Less amused, Mal retorted, "You really are a lawyer. So _clever_ with your words."

Ben realized there was something deeper going on, because there was real hatred in that sneer. He stopped packing. "Do you have something against lawyers?" He wasn't accusing her, just being curious, but she chose not to take it that way.

"Are there people who don't?"

"There are," said Ben, frowning. "But I get it. A lot of people in my class are there to get rich, and they don't care who they screw over to do it. A good number of the rest are idealistic coming into the profession and are going to be desensitized by the time they've worked for a few years. My dad's been a public defender for a long time, though, and he taught me it's definitely possible to do a lot of good as long as justice means more to me than money."

Her eye roll made him reflect on that last sentence and cringe - it had been a bit much. But at least she no longer looked ready to breathe fire. "How do you know you're not one of the kids who grow up and stop caring?"

"I worked with my dad for a long time. I've been around his office since before college," Ben informed her. "He's been preparing me for this since I was really young."

The disgust evaporated. "Did you want that?"

"Well...yeah." It was complicated - 'family legacy' complicated. However, Ben was more taken aback by the fact that a girl who'd said approximately ten words to him was suddenly making him question his life choices. "It's good work. It makes a difference."

"Lots of jobs make a difference."

"This is the one I want, though," he said firmly. "This is the best way I know how to help people, especially people with no one else to turn to."

Mal considered him for a moment, as if he was some fascinating new animal she hadn't thought existed. She bit her lip and murmured, "Good luck in school." Ben took that both as an apology and as his cue to leave.

"I'll see you next week, probably."

She seemed confused, like she'd expected him to berate her for jumping to conclusions. "Yeah. See you."

Though she'd shaken him for a moment, Ben mused, he may have made a dent in her prejudice against him and all of his kind.

* * *

"Hold on. Let me hide my wallet," Mal greeted dryly when Ben automatically made his way over to her the next Friday.

"Oh good, lawyer jokes. Haven't heard any of those before." He chuckled a little, though - something in her voice told him that was meant in jest. "I'm sure you have more."

"Spent all week preparing."

He outright laughed at that, and saw her small smile a second before she hid it. "I'm kind of disappointed that that's the best you could do."

"I'm not surprised you're used to hearing worse. I'm probably the only person you know with any integrity."

"That was much better." Ben quickly realized he had no chance of keeping up with her wit and sarcasm, but that didn't stop him from trying. "Appealing to your so-called integrity, then, I think it's only fair that you tell me what you do, so I can come up with insults of my own."

Mal narrowed her eyes for a moment, looking for a trick, and then responded, "I work at the Auradon Museum of Art. Setting up exhibitions and stuff."

"I guess I should've known it was related." He gestured at her sketchbook. Ben had yet to catch a glimpse of anything she drew; in fact, she seemed to make it a point to angle her sketchbook away from any prying eyes. He knew. His eyes were the prying-est. "Let me give this a try...all you needed for the interview was a working knowledge of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Every other major in college was too hard, so you picked art history?"

"Wait, are you trying to offend me?"

" _Yes_...hold on a second...You're one of those people who tries to convince everyone else that splotches on canvas are worth something, so really, isn't that wheedling money out of your clients just like the lawyers you hate so much...?"

Mal sighed, a sound full of pity and mock-hopelessness. "Is it really this difficult for you to be mean? How are you going to make it through law school?"

"I'll have time to prep," grumbled Ben, gratified to see another smile from her.

"I'm starting to think there's not enough time in the world."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Mal. I'm sure we could go back and forth for the rest of the night, but I need to study," he decided when a better retort did not immediately come to mind.

"Clearly." She let him go after that, picking up her pencil and tapping it against her cheek while she stared at a presumably blank page. Ben couldn't have possibly missed the twinkle in her eyes that remained for at least twenty minutes after their conversation, or the softening of her expression that lasted much longer.

They sat in amicable silence after that, letting the music cocoon them in their own little worlds. Ben was starting to really enjoy jazz. He noticed that every time she paused to analyze her work, Mal would tap her pencil against her cheek again to match the beat of the drummer.

When the band finished their set, Ben was ready. "So I did some research."

"On what?"

"Being mean to artists. There are a lot of fast food worker jokes."

The look Mal gave him made it obvious that she thought the humane thing to do at this point would be to put him out of his misery. "Don't you have actual work to do?"

"Yeah. But I have my good name to uphold."

She gave a short laugh, and then covered her mouth like she'd just spilled a secret. In a more subdued tone, she said, "Well then, there's a lot riding on what you say next."

"Right. Okay. What's the difference between an art major and a philosophy major?"

"Dear God."

"That's not the right answer. Although if I think about it, I guess it's not completely wrong, either."

Exasperated but most definitely entertained, Mal shook her head. "You're a hopeless case. I'll ask if we have job openings. You only have to say nice things about the paintings."

"I appreciate you doing that for me, but maybe hear the punchline first."

"Okay," she allowed, albeit with a healthy serving of skepticism, "Is it that the philosophy major asks WHY you want fries with your order?"

"No. The difference is that philosophy majors understand that they aren't contributing to society."

He waited for her reaction, and was quite satisfied by the impressed look on her face. "Cold," she admitted. "Good job."

"Thanks." He packed his stuff away and added, "By the way, I actually think really highly of contributions from - "

"Ben, you _infuriating_ ray of sunshine, if you explain yourself it doesn't count!"

* * *

The following Friday, he was fairly exhausted. He had his first exam to study for and already stayed til closing nearly every day that week. He'd outstayed even Mal, who would walk by him on her way out and exchange a few words - he had the feeling she was actively trying to get him to laugh, and it worked - before she left the coffee shop.

When he sat down across from her, the fatigue must have been apparent because she appeared mildly concerned. "You've been working really hard this week."

"Yeah," Ben sighed. "Lots to go over."

"You should take a break...I mean, if you want. Not right now, just at some point." Only she was alert enough to know she was talking too much.

"I don't know. Sleep is for the dead, right?" And for living people who didn't have a test on Monday. Still, it was nice of her to care.

"So the minute you doze off, I should call the morgue? Because you know that's happening."

"The dozing off or you calling the morgue?"

His latte and her banter kept him up for a while, but then the band started playing and he began a battle he had no chance of winning. _Chhh ch-ch-chhh ch-ch-chhh._ Eventually, the rhythm lulled Ben to sleep with his head propped in his hand. He was gently shaken awake what seemed like a second later, except the shop had emptied out and the clock read 9:30. "Hey. I'm leaving and they're closing soon, so you should probably wake up or someone's going to take your stuff," Mal told him. She was avoiding his eyes, but he was still drowsy and couldn't immediately tell.

Ben groaned and stretched. "How long was I out?"

"Almost three hours, which was impressive, because you looked really uncomfortable." She stuffed her sketchbook in her bag.

"Thanks for your concern," he drawled sleepily, feeling a tightness in his neck from the awkward position. "If only it extended to waking me up before the muscle spasms so I could go home and lie down in an actual bed." He expected a biting remark, but she looked almost...guilty. "I'm just kidding, Mal. Thanks for waking me up. Seriously."

"You're welcome." Mal fled the scene, leaving him wondering what had happened in the three hours he'd lost.

* * *

After his test on Monday, several people in his class had decided to celebrate. Ben wanted only to sleep, but they insisted, and he agreed on the condition that he could get some caffeine in him first. A large group came with him to his favorite coffee shop that afternoon, all excitedly choosing bars for their crawl that night or (not-so-excitedly) discussing questions from the exam.

It was late enough in the day that Mal was there when they walked in and severely disrupted the atmosphere. She looked up, annoyed, only to see him in this gaggle. Ben shrugged and ordered. While he waited, he approached her and exchanged greetings. "We just finished our first test of the year. I didn't think they'd all follow me out after, but we're going to some bars downtown after this so I guess they just thought it'd be easier." A thought occurred to him, and he offered, "Would you want to come?"

Surprised, Mal opened her mouth to answer, when Ben felt a hand on his back.

"Ben! They called your name." The hand belonged to one of the girls in his class, and though she had his attention, she showed no signs of moving away. "But honestly, how do you stand this place? I'll show you this really nice cafe downtown. We can go there next time."

"Ah - um, thanks for letting me know, Audrey." He noticed Mal was no longer attempting to reply. "This is Mal, she's a regular here too. I was just inviting her along."

"Oh, hi, Mal." Audrey eyed Mal's hair, clothes, and bag. With a cloyingly sweet, sympathetic smile, she extended her free hand - the other one was snaking up to Ben's shoulder and he was very aware of what she was doing but more apprehensive about Mal's sudden disinterest in this conversation. "I'm Audrey, I'm a classmate of Ben's." Mal reluctantly shook her hand. "He says he comes here all the time, so you two must meet pretty often! He's such a sweetheart, isn't he?"

Her megawatt smile would have been harmless flirting in any other circumstance, but in front of Mal, it somehow made him uncomfortable. " _Such_ a sweetheart," Mal repeated sarcastically, though with her impassive delivery the intended meaning was lost on Audrey. The brunette beamed and squeezed his shoulder.

"Except when he's playing tennis at the club," she giggled. "He's a beast. You remember losing to my dad, right, Ben? I'm never going to let you live that down - but I'll make up for it by grabbing your coffee for you." She winked and flounced off.

Ben was at a loss for words. He didn't want other girls flirting with him around Mal, he realized, because he liked her. She was unquestionably attractive and fiery to an extent he hadn't known was possible. There was a mystery about her that enticed him more than warned him away, and yet she was the most straightforward person he knew. Beyond that, he'd watched her melt in front of him for the past few weeks and he was convinced that didn't happen often to the girl who spent all her free time drawing alone in a public place. Like they had some sort of special connection - and Ben was a hopeless romantic. But Mal hadn't given any outright indication that she was interested in him and so he'd been enjoying her company from a distance. Would it be strange to assure her that he wasn't looking to get involved with Audrey?

"I don't think I can make it," Mal said, interrupting his thoughts. "Have a fun _night_." There was something almost accusatory in her tone. She stared intently at the page in front of her, Audrey returned with his coffee, and Ben had no choice but to leave with the group.

He hoped he'd just been imagining her sudden iciness towards him. Even though there were plenty of empty tables the next day, he plopped down across from Mal, who raised her eyebrows.

"It's Tuesday."

"I know. Do you mind if I join you?"

She scowled. "Maybe I do."

Ben hadn't really expected her to say that, not that he was going to leave. "Really?"

"Look. I'm not here to make friends. Just get your work done and leave me alone, or better yet, go hang out with your amazing law school buddies at whatever country club excludes the rest of us filth." She was furious. He had no idea why. It couldn't be jealousy, could it? "Public defender, my ass. That's not what your dad really did, is it? Or else what did your mother do? Mine diamonds?"

Oh.

"I wasn't lying, Mal."

"You're so full of shit. I don't even understand why you'd want to pretend to be poor. What kind of kick do you get out of - "

"My dad's the DA."

The forthcoming slurry of anger stopped in its tracks. Mal gaped, and then shut her mouth; she had the decency to look a little bit ashamed. Ben waited patiently, until she apologized in a very small voice, "Sorry."

Then he explained, "I don't like to tell people who don't already know. Not that you would, but some people try to take advantage. He has a lot of connections. So yeah, I've had a really good life, but that doesn't mean I look down on people who haven't." Her guilt wouldn't let her look him in the eye. "My mom's a librarian, if you still wanted that question answered." He was just teasing, but she visibly slumped in her chair to make herself look smaller. "Want to tell me why you were so upset?"

"Not really."

"Okay, then. I'll see you Friday." He hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and went to find another table. Once he'd settled in, Mal got up as well and came to sit by him. She didn't say a word, just continued to do her work. He smiled to himself at her olive branch. Thinking back, he supposed he had looked like more of a spoiled rich kid with the context of other law students around him - money to blow on expensive places in the city, tennis games with high ranking men in exclusive venues, girls all over him. It was a stark contrast to the quiet evenings he'd spent here with Mal, but he'd liked these better - especially considering the lack of pretension that came with getting to know someone as a person instead of as a means to an end.

He didn't have that much to do so soon after an exam, and he figured Mal would be more amenable to talking now that she knew he wasn't a liar. "Why do you spend so much time working here?"

Her eyes flitted up just for a second. "Trying to make a portfolio."

"Oh? What for?"

"School. There's a scholarship I want to apply for. I didn't get it last year."

"You haven't gone to college?" clarified Ben, surprised.

Too surprised, as it turned out. "No, Ben, I haven't," she replied tersely.

"I didn't mean it like that, it's just...I made all those jokes about art majors, and I'm just now realizing none of them applied to you. No wonder you weren't all that offended."

The corner of her mouth twitched up. "You can't blame your inability to take someone down on a technicality."

"Actually, I think I just did."

Mal shook her head. "Lawyer."

"Guilty," he admitted with a grin.

For the most fleeting of moments neither of them looked away, transiently frozen while they smiled at each other. Mal broke eye contact first, letting her hair curtain her face when she hunched over her sketchbook.

"I hope you get it," said Ben softly - he didn't know why he'd lowered his voice, but he felt that if it was too loud it would break something new and fragile between them. "The scholarship, I mean."

"Thanks." She finally moved her hair out of her face, and Ben could see the remnants of a receding blush. "I...um...I really am sorry. I shouldn't have said that stuff earlier."

"It's alright. What reason would you have to trust some random stranger anyway?"

Mal's brows furrowed. "You _are_ a random stranger, aren't you?"

"Did you forget?" he joked. And in her eyes, he saw that she had.

* * *

"You said your dad is the DA?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Ben assumed there was an unspoken agreement that they were going to sit together now, regardless of the day, and when he entered he saw that he was right. Mal was waiting for him, looking a little paler than usual, with a picture pulled up on her phone. She was on the county court system's website.

"This is your dad?" She held the screen up to his face. Why had she been researching him?

"Yes, Mal. So?" She didn't respond, instead staring at the picture of Ben's father like she'd seen a ghost. "Mal? What's going on?"

"He prosecuted my mother twenty years ago. And put her away."

Ben was hit with the shocking realization that though he'd freely shared all this information about his background and family, he'd known nothing about hers. For the life of him, he couldn't remember anything about her that would suggest her mother was in jail. And he never, in a million years, would have guessed that they were linked by such a monumental event.

His jaw was hanging; he closed it as soon as he became aware of how he looked. Too late - Mal laughed bitterly. "He'd probably be ecstatic to find out you've been in the company of a murderess's daughter."

 _Murder?_ She was getting up to leave, more distraught than he'd ever seen her. Ben got up too, to block her way. "How does what your mother did affect whether or not I can be around you?"

Mal challenged him with a glare. "Aren't you afraid?"

"Of you? No. Why would I - can you sit back down?" He needed a minute to process and things were happening so fast. Thankfully, and probably out of confusion, Mal listened to him. "Twenty years ago - you'd have been too young to even know what was going on. God, that's..." Ben ran his hand through his hair, slightly overwhelmed. "What happened?"

She looked like she was about to argue - which was fair, she didn't owe him an explanation - but then the fight left her. "She killed my father."

Now he was _really_ overwhelmed. Mal had essentially been an orphan for twenty years - and in such gruesome circumstances. So many procedures for cases like these crossed his mind: she would've been put in foster care, maybe adopted by a relative or a nice family - or not. She could've been shunted from home to home until she was old enough to live on her own and all that time this horrible crime followed her wherever she went. "You don't...remember it happening, do you?"

"No." Thank God. "I remember his face, though - " she pointed at the picture on her phone " - more than I remember by own father's. The trial lasted a long time."

"Did she hurt you, too?"

The question surprised her. "Most people just want to know how she did it."

"Why does that matter? Who are these people you're telling? Are they that insensitive?" Ben demanded.

Mal gave him a wry smile. "They were kids. My foster siblings."

His heart ached for her. He wished he could reach over and hug her - something told him that he shouldn't. "Did she hurt you?" he repeated.

"I don't think she did."

She'd quieted considerably, looking quite perplexed at his concern for her well-being. "Is that why you - do you hate my dad?" he asked slowly.

Mal thought about it for a minute. "She deserved to go away. I don't think my life would've been better if he hadn't done his job. She never wants to see me anyway." At this point Ben's heart broke; she was so matter-of-fact about it. "And if he hadn't, I might've ended up like her. I guess I still might," she commented dryly.

"You won't," said Ben, his voice firm. "I don't think you should equate her crimes with your character."

"What do you know about my character?" questioned Mal flatly.

"Not much," Ben admitted, "But going off 'evidence' I have, I like to think I know you a little. And if you hadn't told me about her I wouldn't have even thought it was a possibility. So it's really obvious that being her daughter doesn't define you. You're something else - hardworking, funny, independent, beautiful, and a complete smart ass." He smirked at her, but her eyes had gone wide and her jaw had clenched. He hoped he hadn't overstepped his bounds; he hadn't been trying to hit on her, just cheer her up. "Anyway, crime isn't in anyone's blood. It's a choice. But I'm sorry you've had to go through all of this. No one deserves that."

She nodded numbly, and Ben left it there. He opened up a textbook but couldn't concentrate all that well, as his brain was trying to reconcile the Mal he knew with the history he'd just learned. What kind of person could deal with that misfortune and come out the other side wanting to _create art,_ of all things?

Evidently Mal was having trouble focusing as well, because she got up to leave less than an hour later. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said quietly.

"Sure."

As she passed him, she paused and rested her fingers in front of him, like she wanted to get his attention. He looked up at her, but she resolutely studied the whorled patterns on the table around her hand. When Ben thought she was about to speak, she bit her lip instead and hurried away, leaving him just a hint of her perfume and an abundance of unanswered questions.

* * *

 _I guess we're pretending nothing happened,_ Ben mused after a few minutes of sitting with her the next day. Mal set down her sketchbook and stuck a pencil inside to save her page, then left for the restroom.

It was at that point Ben needed a pencil.

He'd forgotten to bring one, because he did everything on his laptop nowadays, but he wanted to underline a key point in his textbook to come back to later - and hers was just sitting there. She wouldn't mind, right? He only needed it for a second.

When he opened her sketchbook to retrieve it, though, he stopped and completely forgot his purpose.

Ben was staring right back at him from the page beneath his fingers.

With a sharp intake of breath, Ben flipped the sketchbook around to analyze the drawing more closely. It was so well done, with every detail just right, he would've sworn it was a black-and-white photo of him. In it, he was smiling bashfully, like he'd just been caught saying something mildly embarrassing. He couldn't help himself - he turned back a page.

There was a sketch of a mid-flight hummingbird on one page - and on the other, it was him, staring at the onlooker with an intensity he'd never attributed to himself (but whether she knew it or not, it did a good job capturing how he felt when he looked at her). He flipped back again - him, sleeping peacefully. Beside him she'd drawn some sort of trellis covered in ivy, looking out on a house and garden. Before that was a beautiful rendition of the Auradon skyline. And before that, an enlarged image of a honeybee landing on a flower Ben couldn't identify. There were no other pictures of him, so he turned back to the first one. It wasn't entirely done, but it -

" _What are you doing?!"_

He hadn't seen her come back. Something like horror had twisted her expression, though he could see the storm about to unleash underneath that. "I'm sorry, Mal, I just...I wanted to borrow a pencil..."

Mal snatched the book from him and grabbed her bag, stomping out without another word. The few other patrons in the shop glanced over curiously, but Ben was too shocked to care. He had expected more yelling - he had, after all, invaded her privacy - but had not been prepared for her to take off like that. He felt terrible; it wasn't like he didn't know she liked to keep her work to herself. But what was she afraid of? That he'd ridicule her? Did she really not know how talented she was?

It didn't seem as though she would be returning any time soon, so Ben went back to his - after all this, unmarked - textbook until he was tired, resolving to smooth things out with her the following day.

* * *

She didn't come back. Not the next day, nor the next, nor the one after that. In fact, two full weeks went by while the pit in Ben's stomach gnawed at him. He must have really crossed a line. Would he never see her again, to be able to apologize?

Moping and studying in equal parts one day, he was caught unawares by a tall, slender woman with hair so black it almost had a blueish tinge. Her face was made up like she was going to her own wedding, and her clothes only added to Ben's assumption that she was some kind of model. She sat across from him and gave him a brilliant smile. "Mind if I join you?"

"Uh, no, not at all," Ben answered politely. There were plenty of other open tables. Also, she had not bought any coffee.

"Wow. You're just as adorable in person!" she gushed. Ben was thoroughly confused until she stuck out her hand. "I'm Evie, Mal's roommate."

"Mal?" His heart picked up its pace. "How is she?"

"Oh, not good," Evie said somberly. "I mean, she's fine, just sulking. But it got bad enough that I had to go through her things to figure out why, and guess whose face pops up?" _Mine,_ Ben thought miserably. "I knew she used to come here, but now she locks herself in her room after work instead, so I kind of put two and two together and thought I'd find you," explained Evie. "What's your name?"

"Ben."

"Hi, Ben. Would you happen to know what's going on in that impenetrable fortress she calls a brain?"

"Um..." Evie smiled at him again, as if he was some sort of child - like she was used to men being struck speechless in her presence. "Well, the last time she was here I opened up her sketchbook. She was really upset about that."

"What did you see?"

"Just a couple pictures of me, some nature stuff - I didn't get very far."

To his utter confusion, Evie laughed. "You're joking. There's no way she's acting like this much of a brat because she's embarrassed." He didn't know how to respond to that, so Evie clarified, "You're her first foray into portraits. I guess she thought it wasn't up to par."

"I didn't realize - I thought she drew a lot of the people who came into this shop."

"Nope. Just you." She sighed. "You look worried."

"I am. I didn't mean to offend her - I was just trying to borrow her pencil and I got distracted because honestly she's really, really good. I didn't get to apologize."

She brightened. "Do you want to? We don't live very far."

It didn't take a lot of convincing. On the way to Mal and Evie's apartment, Ben asked, "So how do you know her?"

"We're foster sisters. Her and me and two other guys, we were in this house for three years together and just stayed in touch since then. I'm more interested in how _you_ know her. Mal's a tough nut to crack. I don't blame her, obviously - I don't know exactly what happened before I met her, but I think she went through some really bad homes."

Ben was hit by that same feeling he'd had when he learned what happened to her parents. He'd asked if her mother had hurt her - he hadn't even thought about anyone else. He wasn't even sure he could hear it without being sick.

"So how do you know her?" pressed Evie.

"I just sat with her sometimes," said Ben dismissively.

She considered that as they crossed a street. "She told me once she doesn't like drawing people because there's something ugly in everyone, and she can't draw them without that coming through. It cut kind of deep to hear it, but she's not wrong. I wonder why she decided to give it a shot with you?"

"No idea." Ben wondered what ugliness she saw when she looked at him.

Evie arrived at a nearby building and led him up a set of stairs. She opened the door to the apartment and announced, "Mal! I'm home!"

"Okay." Mal's familiar voice wafted over from somewhere inside, muffled by walls.

"I brought a guest!"

"...Great."

Evie chuckled. "She won't come out now. Want a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm good."

Upon walking further into their place, Ben could see an open kitchen and dining room, a small couch, and three doors - only one of which was closed. The others revealed a bathroom and a messy bedroom. "Welcome! Make yourself at home. Sure you don't want anything to eat?" Ben nodded.

"Is it okay if I...?" He gestured at the closed door, and Evie waved him along. He knocked.

"Evie, I don't want to meet your guy of the day." Ben had to stop himself from smiling - he'd missed the sass.

"Mal, it's me. Ben."

For a second, nothing happened, and then he heard bounding footsteps and the click of a lock. The door flew open. Mal stared, open-mouthed, like she couldn't believe the last person she wanted to see was in her apartment.

"Hey."

She nearly closed the door on him, but he quickly slipped inside.

"Mal, listen. I just came to apologize. That's all. Will you let me?" All he got was a glare. "I'm really sorry I went through your stuff. I honestly only meant to use the pencil for two seconds but...everything in there was incredible. I've never seen anyone as talented as you are. That's no excuse, but that's how it went. So I'm sorry, but also...I just..." He shrugged. "I hope you know how amazing you are."

In normal situations, that was a compliment, Ben believed. Not the way Mal received it. She stiffened and stared resolutely at the floor. "Is that it?"

"Yeah."

"You can go now."

That hurt. Ben stared at her for a second, but she turned away from him so he did as she said. On his way out, Evie was leaning against their dining room table, waiting for him. Her face fell when she saw his.

"So that was a no-go, huh?"

Understatement. "Yeah, I...I don't know. It was nice meeting you." She gave him a pitying look and let him out of the apartment.

"Do you want me to walk you back?"

"No, thanks. I know the way." Besides, he was going home. This had been a bad enough day.

* * *

"Mal?" said Evie softly. Her roommate had gone straight to bed after dinner, which was strange, since she normally carved out an hour for Evie to share her latest news. The door was unlocked, though, so Evie entered cautiously. "Are you okay?"

The lights were off and Mal was lying in bed, but Evie knew she wasn't asleep. "Why'd you bring him here?"

"He seems really nice."

"Was he today's boytoy?" There was barely hidden anger in her voice.

"No, Mal. After I met him he told me he wanted to apologize to you, and I told him I could help with that. That's all." Evie was beginning to understand. "Do you like him?"

"God, no. I've never liked anyone less."

"Oh. Well...he's sweet. And the way he...well, never mind."

As Evie was leaving, Mal sat up. "What? The way he does what?"

"It's nothing." Mal's agitation confirmed her suspicions. "It's a shame you can't stand him, that's all. I thought he was a good guy."

"Well, he's all yours," her roommate replied stiffly, as if saying that was difficult for her.

Evie sighed. "What are you doing, Mal? He came all the way here just to say sorry - for something so incredibly stupid, by the way - and God knows what you said to him but he came out of your room looking like you killed his puppy. Did he really deserve that?"

"You wouldn't get it."

"Oh really?" Frustrated now, Evie was holding herself back from a rant - and failing. "What wouldn't I get, Mal? How people who are nice to you are probably going to hurt you later? How you can't trust anyone? How everyone in the world is so _awful_ and _deceptive_ that they don't have a place in your - " And then she _really_ understood. "Except for him. You don't want him to know, do you? That you think he's perfect enough to keep in your little book forever - "

"SHUT UP!" shouted Mal, seething. "You went through my stuff?!"

"Yes, Mal. How else do you think I found him?"

"You had no right."

"That's true. But I'm not apologizing - not like poor _Ben_. I'm doing my best to take care of you, and you don't make it easy."

Mal fell back into bed and turned away from Evie. "I don't want you to take care of me. I don't need you."

They'd had this fight many times before, which generally ended with Mal very begrudgingly and very subtly admitting that she did, in fact, need Evie. Just like Evie needed her. "Too bad. We're sisters, and you're stuck with me." She reached for the knob to close the door behind her. "I'm still here if you decide you want to talk. Good night, Mal."

* * *

Ben hadn't gone back. To be completely honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to see her. She'd shown no sign at all that she was going to forgive him - and he didn't think he understood his crime anymore. What was so private about that book that she hated him for looking at it?

It didn't matter, he supposed. He was supposed to be there to study, and he could very well study at home or at the library or literally anywhere else. This particular chilly autumn day, he was in his apartment. His father, Adam, had called a few minutes before, saying he was in the area and wanted to come visit.

The seasoned lawyer shivered as he stepped into his son's place. "Wear a jacket if you go out, Ben," he advised unnecessarily. "Message from your mother. She doesn't want you catching a cold."

"She's okay with you catching one, though?" Ben asked the sport-coat-clad District Attorney.

"We both know you're the favorite," he grumbled. His son chuckled at that.

Ben waited for his father to sit down with a cup of hot chocolate before asking, "Do you remember a case - probably around twenty years ago - where you put away a woman for murdering her husband? She had a young daughter at the time."

His father paused with the mug raised halfway to his mouth. "I think I know the one you're talking about. Was it a stabbing?"

Ben winced. "I don't know."

Adam put down his steaming drink. "It was a big case because this woman was old money - and her husband was one of those dot com millionaires. She was found by a court psychologist to be a psychopath, so it's anyone's guess why she did it. Why do you ask?"

"I met her daughter."

Surprised, Adam raised an eyebrow, and then sighed. "I remember her. Mallory, I think? That child went through hell - the trial dragged on for years. This woman brought on the best lawyers money could buy, and they exploited every loophole. Almost didn't get the conviction, but in the end, she was guilty as sin and the truth always comes out."

"If she was so rich, how did the daughter end up in foster care instead of...I don't know, a boarding school or with a nanny or something?"

"I don't know...I didn't follow up with her." He looked a little ashamed. "Other cases came up. My best guess is that the team of lawyers drained the accounts dry and there was no trust in place for the little girl. The father wasn't financially savvy and never drew up a will. I guess they took advantage."

So much of Mal's original hatred suddenly made sense. Ben had thought he'd fought tooth and nail to get into her good graces - but now he was surprised he hadn't had to fight harder.

"How is she? The daughter," Adam asked.

"Fine," said Ben. "She's an artist."

"Good for her. She must've had a really hard life."

 _You don't know the half of it._ No one did, besides Mal. Those years before she met Evie - did she have anyone? Was she harmed? These thoughts were familiar, now. Evie probably wouldn't have mentioned it if she'd known how it would torment him.

So despite it being nearly eight by the time his dad left, Ben put on a jacket (to appease his mother) and walked. He decided to check the coffee shop first, and then stop by their apartment. Hopefully that wouldn't come off as creepy. What he'd say, he had no idea. That he knew? That he understood why she wanted nothing to do with him, like she'd been looking for a reason to despise him? It wasn't right, but it made sense. She'd had almost everything taken from her in a court of law.

When Ben walked in, Mal's regular table grabbed his attention. She was there, alright - and with his arm around her chair was a tanned, long-haired, muscular man Ben had never seen.

An inexplicable feeling of betrayal crept up on him, which didn't make sense. They hadn't been together. Mal had the right to date anyone she liked. It was just that seeing that man so easily near her, winking and laughing and eliciting good-natured griping from her - Ben realized there had never been anything special between them. He'd convinced himself of a connection that didn't exist, had never existed. If some random, conventionally attractive guy had the ability to get close to her - no wonder she'd wanted Ben gone. She'd known his feelings were entirely one-sided.

The guy looked up first, while Ben's consternation rooted him to the spot momentarily. When he nudged Mal, Ben turned on his heel and walked out the door, embarrassed at having been caught staring. He should've left her alone to begin with. She had made it clear that was what she wanted.

* * *

Mal's face had gone pale at the sight of the man turning around. "Who is that?" Jay asked. "Why'd he look over here?" When Mal didn't answer, he turned to her with a frown. "Is he bothering you?"

"No," she said quietly, slouching over her sketchbook like she needed to peer close at a small detail. "He's no one."

"Doesn't look like no one." Jay wasn't completely clueless. "That's not the guy Evie mentioned, is it?"

Mal slammed down her pencil and growled, "Evie needs to stop talking to - Jay! Get back here!" That was the last of her protesting that Jay heard, because he was already running out the door after this mystery man.

"Hey you!" he yelled when he got close enough. "You! In the black! Wait a second!"

* * *

"Who are you?" Mal's companion demanded. Ben bit back a sigh. It had been a mistake to come here. He hadn't even gotten a block away from the shop before this guy - who was quite tall - caught up to him.

"Ben."

"No - well, okay, but I mean, who are you to my sister?"

 _His sister._ Evie had mentioned there had been two boys in the home with her and Mal. Ben felt a little stupid, but nowhere near vindicated. "No one."

The man in front of him folded his arms, not buying it. "Yeah, right. So why did you run out of there when I noticed you?"

"I...um..." Ben looked over his shoulder longingly at the street that ran in front of his building. "I was in a hurry."

"You were in such a hurry that you walked into a coffee shop and didn't buy any coffee?"

Before Ben could come up with an answer to that, a pale hand crept over Jay's shoulder and forced the bigger man to turn around. Mal stood behind him, holding a battered red beanie. "You forgot this," she said.

"Thanks." He tugged it onto his head. "You want to tell me - "

"I left my bag at the shop. Could you get it for me?" Jay knew she was trying to get rid of him, and gave them both a lazy salute before heading back, leaving Ben and Mal in an awkward silence.

She wouldn't look at him, instead chewing the inside of her cheek while she tried to gather her thoughts. Ben just wanted to go home, and thought he'd save her the trouble. "So, it's pretty chilly...I should go."

"Oh," Mal said, slightly alarmed. "Yeah, okay."

"Alright, I'll..." His normal 'see you later' wouldn't really work in this situation. "Bye, Mal."

He didn't get far before he heard her calling, "Ben, wait a second! Just for a second. I don't..."

She looked defeated, he observed when he turned around. "Mal, it's okay. I get it. I won't bother you anymore."

If possible, that only distressed her more. "No, that's not - look, I can't - I'm trying, but I don't know how to tell people - I really - I _like_ when you bother me - a lot - and if you don't, that's fine, but - I just wanted to say...that." Her ears had turned cherry red, and one of her hands was picking at a loose thread on the side of her jeans. Ben moved closer - unbeknownst to her, because she was still avoiding his gaze. "And that I should've...should've been nicer, because the way I acted...that's not the way people act when they...care. About somebody. So, I'm sorry for messing up. If there was anything to mess up. I'm not trying to assume...I just thought...I wish I could _talk_ properly and I - "

"Mal," he interrupted softly, figuring she was going to keep torturing herself if he didn't stop her. She looked up finally, surprised to see him so close, but she didn't back away. "Can I kiss you?"

Without even a moment's hesitation, she nodded. He tilted her head up by her chin and brushed his lips against hers - and he'd meant for it to end there, but Mal wasn't quite done. He felt her body relax into his, her hand on the back of his neck keeping him from pulling away, and the insistent press of her lips that turned his brief peck into something deeper. Ben smiled, and Mal broke their kiss.

"Sorry," she muttered, blushing. "I've never kissed anyone before."

"No - hey..." He cupped her cheek and brought her gaze to his again. "I just realized how long I've been waiting to kiss you."

"I think I've...been waiting, too." Mal bit her lip and brought her hands to his chest, tugging at the lapels of his jacket to bring him closer. "Ben..." Her eyes willed him to understand. He kissed her again, and when they separated he kept her barely an inch away from him; he could hear her breathing quicken. He knew what he wanted, and he was fairly certain he knew what she wanted, but he needed to hear her say it - "Take me home."

* * *

It was a week before Ben met Carlos, the last of the four siblings. The five of them had gotten together at Mal and Evie's apartment to watch U of A's football team during playoffs. Jay and Carlos were quite excited - Mal and Evie couldn't have cared less. Ben was a fan, too, so the boys got along quite well.

More satisfying than the game, though, was that Mal decided to forego most of the empty couch in favor of curling up and nestling into Ben's side. He knew being affectionate was a new experience for her, but she was getting better at it every day. He kissed her forehead and went back to watching the television, expressing dismay and delight much less intensely than the other two guys.

At the end, he tried to shake hands with both of them, but instead got a fist bump and an actual punch in the arm - he was pretty sure it wasn't a warning but it still kind of hurt. Mal got up as well, announcing her intention to walk him home.

"But it's so far," Evie commented with a sly grin. "If you leave now, you won't be back 'til morning!"

Mal turned bright red when Jay and Carlos began snickering and practically dragged her amused boyfriend out of the apartment.

"...Well, she's not wrong."

"Keep talking and she will be."

Ben laughed and draped his arm around her shoulders. They took up the entire sidewalk as they lazily strolled back to his place, ignoring the wintry weather. "If you let her get to you, she's only going to tease you more. Just don't react."

"Easy for you to say. You don't live with her." Mal interlaced her fingers with his hanging hand. "I need to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Um..." She kicked at a pebble on the ground to stall. "I'm submitting my scholarship application tomorrow and I was wondering if I could use one of the pictures of you."

"Of course." They exchanged equally confused glances. "Did you think I'd say no?"

"Well, I should probably have asked you before I drew them in the first place." She was still a little shy on this topic - Ben had gotten a barebones explanation from her and deduced that something about him seeing those particular drawings made her feel particularly vulnerable, a feeling Mal learned that she did not enjoy. She was okay with showing him her other work now, and hearing her talk about it suggested to Ben that she revealed a little bit about herself - her hopes, her dreams, her fears - in every one. He assumed that was the reason she continued to hide those three portraits. "So I'm asking now."

"I don't mind at all. Kind of honored, actually." Ben grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Do you really think they're some of your best?"

He could sense her closing off, and was about to retract his question when she replied, "I think that...what they convey is important."

"And what do they convey, Mal?" he prodded gently. "I didn't get a great look at them the first time...and since someone doesn't want to show them to me..."

"It's not that I don't want to show them to you," protested Mal. "I just don't want to show them to you _yet._ "

Suddenly, Ben understood. Whatever her artist's eye saw in her drawings, he had no hope of seeing, but she wasn't so sure. And that's why she didn't want him to look, because then he'd know - he'd know that those portraits had been drawn with love, an emotion so unfamiliar it scared her.

The subtle admission warmed Ben's heart. He knew he could show her that it was nothing to be afraid of, and maybe the day would come when she wouldn't be afraid anymore. Today was too soon, for both of them, but they would get there. He tightened his hold on her and kissed her temple. "Okay, I'll wait. You should use them, though, if you think they'll help." Ben gave her a lopsided smile. "Are you finished with the rest of the application? If you're working on it tonight, I'll try not to distract you."


	7. Forever (AU)

**Hello everyone! Here is a short one-shot while I figure out the next short story. This is also the "sequel" to Eleven. Enjoy the fluff! See if you can find the very obvious homage to Beauty and the Beast.**

* * *

They'd just finished watching the latest installment of _The Fast and The Furious_ series - well, Ben had finished watching it. Mal was curled up next to him on the couch, mostly asleep. The clock read 12:35.

"Mal?" His arm was already around her, so he rubbed her shoulder. "We should go to bed."

"No," she protested groggily, cuddling further into his embrace. "I'm up. Turn it back on."

"The movie's over," Ben informed her, smiling. "Come on. It's like ten steps from here."

"That's too many."

"I could carry you," he offered.

"Mmkay."

She didn't think he was serious. He knew she didn't think he was serious. He pulled her into his lap anyway, making a big show of preparing to hoist her over his shoulder. Mal was well and truly awake now.

"Ben! Are you nuts?"

He laughed at her reaction, which quickly dissolved from shock into a resigned amusement. Mal shook her head and looped her arms around his neck, letting him kiss her. Hardly breaking contact with her lips, he murmured, "Happy anniversary."

At her raised eyebrow, he jerked his head towards the clock. "Oh. It's tomorrow already," said Mal. Her expression softened considerably. "Happy anniversary, Ben."

He tenderly brushed her hair behind her ear, placing another kiss on her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too." It had been six months into their relationship before she'd felt comfortable enough to say that, because she'd never said it before. Ever, she'd stressed. Ben had been honored to be the first, but at the same time, he'd wished she'd had someone, anyone, before he came along. That she hadn't been alone all her life. "I got you something."

That snapped him out of his thoughts. "What? But you made me promise not to get you anything!"

"Like you didn't."

"True," admitted Ben. "But I hope you see the hypocrisy here."

Mal grinned and got up, leaving cold empty space where she had just been. He watched her walk into the laundry room - he never spent more time there than he had to, so it made sense that was where she'd hide things from him - and emerge with a large gift bag. The bag was dark blue and unadorned; it was no surprise that he'd missed it.

"Open it." She sat in the middle of the couch and folded her legs under her, waiting expectantly.

There wasn't much to open. Ben discarded a few pieces of tissue paper, and then lifted his prize out of the bag and set it on the coffee table. It was a tall, slim bell jar with a single rose hanging inside - probably with fishing line, but at first glance it looked like it was floating. "Mal, this is - "

"Wait." She pointed in the bag. "There's something else."

He dug around a little bit and found what was left: a small notecard, folded in half. In Mal's handwriting, it read, _This is the very first one._

Ben stared, confused, and then looked up at her. "The first one?"

"Yes." There was a small, affectionate smile growing on her face. "From one year ago."

The statement hit Ben like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened. "From - " Mal nodded. From the day they met. The first rose he'd given her, completely on whim. "How...?" Ben was no botanist, but he was sure roses did not live that long.

"It was so...strange...I can't really explain it." She looked down at her hands, but he still saw her blush. "You came back from that other girl's place and I assumed you'd struck out and thought you'd try your luck with me...but then we spent the whole night talking, and you seemed like...like you enjoyed it? Like that's all you wanted from me? I didn't know if I'd see you again after that. I mean, you said - but taking people at their word isn't something that I - anyway, it felt...special. I knew I wanted to remember that night, regardless. And the place I was working at at the time, they let me use their equipment to preserve that - " She gestured at the rose. It still looked as fresh as the day he'd plucked it out of the bouquet. " - so I did. Now that we've moved in together I wanted to...well...do you like it?"

 _Do I like it?!_ he thought hysterically. There were no words to express how he felt. Instead, he quietly reached for her hand and held it for a few seconds while he gazed in wonder at the woman before him. Had she somehow known they'd grow to love each other so much? At what point had she realized she'd been right, that what they had was truly special? Ben thought back through the significant moments in the year they'd had together - maybe when she'd confided in him about her past, and instead of whatever reaction she'd expected, he'd held her close and told her that he'd never let anything like that happen to her again, and she'd cried in front of him for the first time. Maybe when she met his parents, and they'd been so surprised at his choice of girlfriend that they hadn't been able to keep it hidden, and she'd nearly left convinced she wasn't good enough, and he'd told her in front of both of them that there was nothing about her that he would change. Or maybe it had been something as simple as a look, a smile, a promise, that had cemented her belief in their relationship and led to her sharing this with him on their anniversary - hopefully, the first of many.

"Ben?" Mal bit her lip, unsure, probably because he was still staring.

He moved closer and opened his arms. "Come here." She did, hugging him as tightly as he hugged her. "I love it, Mal, and I love you. And...I just can't believe you kept it all this time. I honestly don't know how to tell you how much it means to me. This is the best present I've ever gotten."

She pulled away from him, resting a hand on his cheek while she teased, "If you start crying I'm never getting you anything again."

Ben chuckled. "That's fine. I'm not sure how you would top this anyway."

"That's high praise, coming from the king of surprises himself," she declared, "As long as I beat you in this whole gift-giving thing once, I'm happy."

Mal _had_ beat him, that was for sure - the rose put the graphite pencil set he'd gotten her to shame. "I do like to see you happy," Ben acknowledged softly. He locked eyes with her. "And Mal - I genuinely did want to talk to you that night. Because I didn't realize, until I met you, that I didn't have anything in my life that made me really happy. But you...God, it was so easy to fall in love with you." They kissed, sweetly at first, but then with more and more fervor until Ben couldn't take any more. His last thought before she completely took over his senses was that she may have won this time, but he was pretty sure he had their next momentous occasion in the bag.

He was going to start shopping for rings.


	8. Trigger

**Hey guys! I'm working on a proposal story, but in the meantime, here's one set within the first year of their relationship.**

* * *

" _You're_ going to teach _me_ how to fight?" The mere thought amused Mal.

"No need to be so cocky," Ben retorted. "And I said 'sword fighting'. Not really used anymore, but it's - you know - fun."

"Okay..." Out of an outdoor storage shed, Ben handed her a weapon and took one for himself. Mal laughed, observing, "This isn't even a real sword! What is this, wood?"

"Well, yeah. Unless you want to be dismembered?"

"Now who's being cocky?"

Ben chuckled and led her to a flat, grassy area behind the shed devoid of any obstacles. "Well, first things first, you need to learn how to hold a sword - "

"I didn't know you thought I was _that_ stupid," his girlfriend remarked.

"Snarky, yes. Stupid, no. It's more than just figuring out which end is the hilt. If you choke up on it, you'll have more control but less power. And vice versa, if you hold it at the very end." _So just not smart enough to understand simple physics,_ Mal thought to herself. She bit her lip before saying it aloud, though, because Ben had come around behind her to adjust her stance. He nudged her left leg a step back with his foot, and then turned her hips so she was facing sideways. His hand trailed down her sword arm until it arrived at her wrist, which he shook a little bit. "You don't need to hold this so tightly," he told her softly, because her ear was about two inches from his mouth. She shivered and her cheeks warmed. It was all unnecessary; he could've just told her what to do. Mal liked the little excuses he came up with to touch her, though, and she was pretty sure he knew it.

When he was satisfied with her position, he moved about two feet away from her and raised his weapon. "Okay. Just follow your instincts, and we can correct things as we go along."

"Sure," she agreed sweetly. She knew that would set off alarm bells in his head. Fighting was partly a mind game, after all.

Ben came at her with an exaggerated movement, making the lethal mistake of 'going easy on her.' Mal blocked the thrust with an unceremonious swipe and then dropped to the ground, sweeping her leg in a low roundhouse kick to knock him off his feet. The surprised king toppled and landed on his back with a _thud_ , though Mal wasn't worried - she'd seen him take worse hits in tourney. She used the momentum of her kick to spin all the way around, stand back up, and flick her wrist so the point of her sword was at his exposed neck, all in one smooth motion. Unable to suppress a smug smile, she then chose to state the obvious. "You can't teach me how to fight, Ben."

"That," Ben grunted, getting up and brushing dirt off the seat of his pants, "was cheating."

"On the Isle, we call that 'winning'."

"I don't doubt that." He readied himself. "Let's try winning with honor."

"Now _that_ is something you might have to teach me."

Less merciful now, Ben cut down from her top right quadrant. Mal still saw it coming, hyper-vigilant as always, and met his wooden sword a few inches above her shoulder. Using the muscles of her calves to propel her, she threw him off, and in the few milliseconds it took him to bring the sword swinging back she had already ambushed him with a fist that stopped about an inch in front of the bridge of his nose.

"You're supposed to use the sword," Ben pointed out, swatting her hand away from his face.

"I clearly don't need to."

He sighed dramatically. "You're really ruining this for me."

"Sorry." Her eyes twinkled with mirth. He was pretty cute when he was pretending to be irritated. "Is it possible that all the people you beat were just letting you win because you're royalty?"

"Funny."

This time, Ben didn't hold back at all. Mal was taken aback by his speed - it wouldn't have matched her own in any other situation, but she currently had an unwieldy extension of her arm to deal with. And, she realized with a trace of humility, he was stronger than her. This became evident when his weapon swiped at her chest and she used her own to block the attack, but he pressed until the dull blades were an inch away from her body. He could've pressed further, but chose not to because he was Ben and he was still going to give her a chance. Besides, in using his weight to bear down on her, he'd brought his nose within millimeters of hers. His eyes darted down to her lips and he smiled, tilting his head just so, as if he was about to kiss her - she was ready - and then at the last second pushed off. They both stumbled a couple of steps back.

Mal was pleasantly surprised at the mischievous look in his eye. Ben was generally so straightforward, he hardly ever flirted with her like this. She brushed her hair out of her face and smirked. Two could play at that game.

For their next bout Mal jabbed at an opening, which he quickly covered. He launched into a complicated series of practiced maneuvers that she could only barely keep up with. For the most part, she was able to dodge, only occasionally creating a substitute shield out of her fake sword and, when he finally managed to catch her unawares, her arm.

"You're officially an amputee," he informed her cheekily. All intentions of teaching her proper forms were long gone; it turned out Ben was just as competitive with sword play as he was in tourney.

"Fine. Didn't need that arm anyway," taunted Mal. He laughed, pausing to use the hem of his shirt to wipe the newly formed sweat off his forehead - the result of the sunny, warm day and the effort of his last onslaught. Away from the stuffy dignitaries and protocols of the castle, Ben didn't care if any part of his bare torso was exposed during this action. Mal chanced a look while he used his shirt as a towel - he was her boyfriend, after all, and being this skilled in combat only made him more attractive.

Mal very obviously positioned her 'injured' arm behind her back, much to the king's amusement. For the next round she stayed far out of his reach, ducking and weaving to avoid the point of his sword. She was hoping to tire him out. Ben, however, had a lot more endurance than she gave him credit for, and of course his patience was never-ending. Eventually she had to attack. Mal parried his weapon out of the way and then went for the gut with the hilt, only to be stopped when Ben grabbed at the oncoming wrist. The muscles in his arm tensed to keep her fist from getting close to its target, and then he yanked her nearer with a smirk. "Weren't expecting that, were you?"

 _He'd make a gorgeous villain,_ Mal thought to herself once she recovered from the shock. They weren't quite flush against each other, so she closed the space between them and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. He let go of her arm to lay his hand on her waist instead, allowing her to swing the sword under his arm and press the blade to his back. "It's okay. I adapt." Ben's eyes widened at the deception before his expression relaxed into something far more affectionate. Goodness, he was burning - she supposed she was too, though the exercise wasn't the only reason for her elevated pulse. Before it got to be too much of a problem Mal took a couple steps back, saying, "That's three to one now, isn't it?"

His smoldering gaze told her that perhaps she was distracting him as much as he was distracting her. "Oh, are we keeping score?"

"We don't have to if losing upsets you, Your Majesty."

"I think the real question is if losing is going to upset _you._ "

Their weapons met with a dull, slapping noise, again and again. Their fight had turned into a strange sort of dance, if there was any dance that consisted of two partners displaying completely different styles. Mal swiped at his neck; he blocked and side-stepped and blocked again on her rebound attack. She jumped away, fully extending her usable arm to drive the tip towards him. Ben twirled his blade around hers. Mal belatedly realized the motion he'd forced her sword into was twisting her arm and she had to make the split second choice of letting go of the hilt or over-rotating her shoulder joint. She chose neither, spinning to free her blade from his. Before she could turn back around, Ben's arm had come around her waist and she just barely slipped her sword in between his weapon and her stomach. They had stalled again, but this time the king was pressed against her back, her disabled left hand splayed across the muscles of his abdomen.

Both of them were panting. She could feel his breath on her neck and the heave of his chest against her back. Her arm was trapped between them, not that she wanted to move it, and his stomach had gone rigid in response. It was enough, Mal decided. She was ready to call it quits and find somewhere secluded so they could finally relieve all this tension -

The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, staring up at Ben in disbelief. He held the sword to her throat, smirking. "You're not the only one capable of playing dirty."

He'd done all of that on purpose. The flirting, the playfulness, the longing glances, the _touching_ \- it had been a ploy, and she'd fallen for it. Her attention diverted, he'd executed his plan with hardly any resistance from her.

And now she was, for all intents and purposes, dead.

 _I trusted you._ Mal's breathing quickened. She'd let her guard down. She'd gotten comfortable. She'd let her feelings, her weaknesses, show. And he'd used them - _exploited_ them - and now his sword was going to slice her neck open and she was going to die.

Mal was back on the Isle and the person in front of her was someone nameless, faceless, but someone she'd cared about all the same. She had been taught all her life not to care. She'd never let anyone too close - not Evie or Carlos or Jay - and this was why. He'd tricked her. He'd betrayed her. She should have seen it coming. Yet, when it had mattered most, she'd been blind, and she'd lowered her defenses.

"Mal, if this is a ploy to get me to help you so you can knock me down..."

It had only taken one moment. One moment had sealed her fate. A lifetime of vigilance brought to an untimely end by...what? Love? Had she really believed that? There was no such thing. How had she been so stupid? So incredibly stupid. _Stupid_. She was Mal. Princess of all evil. She was supposed to be untouchable, unbeatable. She was supposed to live and and fight and rule and she would have, if only she hadn't been so _stupid._

"Mal?" The figure reached for her, his voice edged with something that sounded like concern, but couldn't be. She recoiled, though it didn't matter. She was at his mercy. "Mal, what - it's me, it's Ben!" He discarded the sword and dropped to his knees.

 _It's Ben._ That meant something. Something. But it wasn't important now. He'd decided the sword would be too easy. How would he kill her, this man she had so foolishly held dear? She'd given him a knife and exposed her back for him to stab. She'd been open, vulnerable, weak. All it had taken was a couple of charming smiles. Perhaps she deserved to die.

"Mal, it's Ben." What did that mean? "You're scaring me, Mal. Please answer. Tell me you can hear me."

You trust, you die. So simple. You trust, you die. The cardinal rule. Why, of all the rules, had she broken that one?

 _Ben._ If only she knew what -

 _Safe._

Her mind snapped back to reality. _Safe._ Ben means safe.

"Shit," she finally gasped, the panic releasing its paralyzing grip on her lungs. She was in Auradon. The Isle was behind her. " _Shit_." She lurched forward to hug him tightly.

"What - _oof_." Recovering quickly, Ben wrapped his arms around her in return. "I've got you. You're okay. I'm here. It's okay."

Mal was shaking. She clutched at Ben, her lifeline, while she hyperventilated to restore oxygen to her circulation. He rubbed circles into her back, murmuring comforting words. Mal buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting his scent be one more thing that would tether her to this time and place. Slowly, she calmed. She could see him. She could hear him. She could feel him. She could smell him. Mal picked her head up and kissed him before he could ask any questions. He let her, though he didn't respond as eagerly as he perhaps would have ten minutes before. That was fine. She could taste him now, too. He was here, he was real. He was Ben. He was _safe._

When she pulled away, Ben searched her eyes for answers. "What happened, Mal?"

What, indeed. "I was about to...I couldn't even..." She stopped talking to collect her thoughts. "I trusted you... _to not do that_."

She could see the confusion and the pre-guilt horror that came from knowing he'd done something wrong. "To not do what?"

" _That_." It wasn't fair to ask. She'd been doing the same thing to him. But on the other hand, he hadn't grown up on the Isle. "Take advantage of my...of how I feel...to kill me."

" _Mal_ ," he breathed sharply. "Kill you? It was just a game. If there was any actual danger I - I would never hurt you. Never."

"I know." He would never understand. "I just...forgot...for a second."

"That was a really long second," said Ben grimly. "This was more than forgetting. You looked like you didn't even recognize me. You were _scared_ of me."

Would she frighten him, if she told him the truth? She wanted to talk to him, but not at the risk of him finding her too crazy to be with. She didn't want to be alone, but alone was safe, too. "Look, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." She started to get up, but Ben pulled her down.

"I know that voice," he told her softly. "I know you want me to leave you alone. And I will. Just tell me what to do in case it _does_ happen again. Or better yet, tell me how to make sure it doesn't."

Auradon was so beautiful, so different from the murk and stink of the Isle. How had she thought she'd been back there, with the blue sky and the sun and the green grass all around her? And Ben - how had she forgotten Ben, the one person whose belief in her never faltered? He wouldn't leave her. It was in his voice. _Tell me what to do._ "It was like a nightmare," mumbled Mal at last. "I still get them. Some stuff that actually happened, and some stuff that could have. If this 'game' had happened on the Isle, it wouldn't have been a game. It would've been a mistake. My mistake, for trusting someone. And that mistake meant I died." Some remnant of that feeling crept up on her again, and she slammed a fist into the grass. "I should've _known_ better - "

Ben's hand stilled hers. Mal bowed her head in shame. He shouldn't have to be burdened with this. He had enough to worry about. Now along with everything else, she felt disgusted with herself. At his silence, the disgust grew.

Then he spoke. "How often do you have the nightmares, Mal?"

The irrelevance surprised her. "I don't know. Not as much anymore." He waited. "A couple times a week."

"I want you to come find me when they happen."

She gave him an incredulous look. "You'll be sleeping."

"I know."

Mal shook her head. "Ben, I'm not going to wake you up in the middle of the night for something as silly as - "

"It's not silly," he countered firmly. "It's terrifying. If what I just saw is how you feel multiple times a week, I don't want to sit by and do nothing. Mal - " He took her hands in his. "This relationship - it's more than never hurting you. It's protecting you, like I know you'll protect me. What we have isn't a mistake, it's _right._ I don't want you to be afraid of me. Of this." He gestured vaguely between them. "I promised you I'd teach you what love is. Well, this is part of it. We're there for each other. Let me be there for you."

He was back to the Ben she knew and loved - kind, caring, selfless. As his words washed over her, she found herself stunned for the millionth time at his compassion and warmth - and at how much she craved it. "You're the king," protested Mal weakly. "You have other - "

"I promise I don't have anything that keeps me so busy, I can't be there when you need me." He was so sincere. Mal gave in, leaning into him and letting him envelop her in his embrace. She could have willingly drowned in the deep blue of his eyes. "I love you, Mal. I want you to be happy."

"I _am_ happy," she murmured, her fingertips running down the side of his neck. "Because of you." Ben looked down at her for a split second before their lips met in what was honestly one of the best kisses of her life. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she scooted onto his lap, sighing in contentment. He kissed her hard, like it was a nonverbal measure of the bounds of his affection. She kissed him harder, only momentarily pulling back the minimum distance necessary to make sure he knew, "I love you."

Two pairs of bruised lips and a non-negotiable need for air later, Ben stroked Mal's hair and said, "So no more sword fighting for a while, hmm?"

She shrugged. "It was fun, in the beginning."

"When you were winning."

Mal laughed at his eye roll, nuzzling his cheek and agreeing, "Three to two. And I've decided on a prize." Exasperated, Ben raised an eyebrow at her. She stood up and held out a hand for him to take. "We're going to need to go somewhere a lot more private."


	9. Revenge

**Sorry, this is not the promised proposal story. Still working on it. Wanted to try my hand at humor, though, so here it is!**

* * *

"Yes!" Ben muttered under his breath. The tiny phone screen displayed a score of 4 - 2 for a quick second before the camera panned over a cheering crowd. Several players in blue and yellow thumped the back of one of their own - Jay, actually, who'd gone on to have a very successful career as a professional tourney player - and returned to their starting positions for the next quarter.

The door to his office opened, and Ben quickly hid the phone under his desk. His wife stepped in, her face an emotionless mask.

"Did you finish that phone call?"

"Um..." Lying was not one of his many talents. He'd tried and failed to pick it up from Mal. "Yes."

"What was the emergency?"

"It was...um...there was a really - "

Mal crossed her arms and continued coldly, "It was the Tourney World Cup, wasn't it?" Ben's eyes widened in surprise. "You think I don't know when one of my best friends is playing in the biggest tournament of his career?"

Ben stuttered uselessly.

"You _left_ me," she seethed. "You left me all _alone_ with those old women from the Municipal...Enrichment... _whatever_ Department, and you _know_ I can't stand them."

"It was just for a second - "

"It's been a half hour!" his wife thundered. "And the goddamned Easter Bunny canceled for the goddamned egg hunt tomorrow so I had to calm Ethel down because she was having a goddamned panic attack for _ten minutes!_ " Mal marched up to his desk and slammed her hands down on it. "Do you know how dramatic she can be about her non-existent problems? And I had to pretend to care because _you weren't there!"_

The king hung his head shamefully. "Mal, I'm sorry. It's just...it's the World Cup..."

Her eyes flashed green. "No. You're not sorry. But you will be."

* * *

"I hope your dad was a much scarier beast." Mal smirked at her husband when he emerged in a six-foot, fluffy white Easter Bunny costume.

"Was this absolutely necessary?" Ben's voice was muffled by the disproportionately large head.

"Oh, totally," responded Mal cheerfully.

"You know, revenge is one of those things you're not supposed to do anymore."

She shrugged. "Gosh darn it, guess I'm still learning."

It was a chilly April morning, but the bunny costume was quite warm. Ben had a pixelated view of the happenings through the mesh of the bunny's mouth. Mal took his oversized hand and walked out onto the castle grounds, which had been covered in every pastel color imaginable for the Easter celebrations. Patterned tents of various sizes had their flaps open to reveal carnival-like games or treats. Children had already started to show up with their parents, excitedly preparing for the egg hunt and watching hungrily while the cotton candy booth was set up.

"There he is!" exclaimed Ethel as they (unfortunately) crossed her path. Next to her was a reporter from the Auradon Gazette, taking notes on the event, and a cameraman. She explained, "This should be your headline: 'King Benjamin saves the day!' You know, our original Easter Bunny called in sick last minute and His Majesty _insisted_ on taking the job himself! He's so dedicated to the children!"

Ben discovered he was also not a fan of Ethel.

"He really is," Mal agreed, gazing lovingly at him. "We're fortunate to have a king who cares so much about even the youngest of his subjects. Would you put that in as well?"

Mal could not see his eye roll, only the broad, frozen smile of the Easter Bunny.

Ethel called over one of her volunteers. "Please take King Benjamin and Queen Mal to the photography area. The children can start taking pictures with him." To Ben, she added, "We'll come over at ten so you can signal the start of the egg hunt. Does that sound alright?"

"Sounds perfect." If his tone was a little sarcastic, no one besides Mal noticed.

It was not perfect.

Most of the children under three cried when they saw him. They were better with Mal, who at least looked human. Still, the vast majority of the pictures captured red-faced, screaming babies along with their less-than-impressed older siblings, who knew the Easter Bunny wasn't real, thank you very much. "You know, kids on the Isle used to cry when they saw me," Mal mentioned while the next child in line came to stand by Ben. "How the tables have turned."

"You definitely still make people cry."

"Just you." She smiled and held out a hand to a young girl who was staring at her in awe.

"I'm a person," Ben argued.

"Actually, right now, you're a rabbit." They paused their conversation while the camera flashed, and then Mal crouched down to talk to the girl for a second. When she stood back up, she teased, "Can I call you the Beaster Bunny?"

"I like how you're asking permission, when we both know you're going to do whatever you want anyway."

"Beaster Bunny it is."

At ten a.m., Ben was led over to a stage and given a microphone. He couldn't take off the head - he'd done that at one point during the photography session and a kid had started bawling after witnessing the decapitation. Now there were dozens of them looking at him. "Alright everyone, the egg hunt is about to begin! Remember, you can look all over the grounds. There aren't any eggs inside the castle. Don't go past the street. Stay with a buddy at all times. Get ready, get set...go!"

For the most part, that meant he was off-duty until the hunt was over at ten thirty. But then after that, it was back to the photos. This time Mal did not join him, which made the children even more antsy. She stood behind the camera, talking to parents, probably about him. Judging by the periodic fond looks he was getting, the conversation was probably about how much dignity he'd sacrificed to make sure the children had a good time - which, by the way, he doubted he was contributing to. They seemed to be the most unhappy when forced to stand still for a picture.

A handful of kids, though, were genuinely excited to meet the Easter Bunny. They asked him to pick them up, they talked to him, and one of the more confused ones told him what she wanted for Christmas. He delighted in answering questions about where he lived (the South Pole, opposite Santa), who his best friends were (the Tooth Fairy and Queen Mal), what he liked to eat (carrots), and how old he was (three hundred and seven). This was actually quite fun, and it almost made the humiliation worth it.

Ben continued taking pictures until the event wrapped up, when he helped take down the photo backdrop and thanked the cameraman for his patience.

"So am I forgiven?" he asked Mal when the last of the kids had gone home. He'd removed the bunny head, reveling in the feeling of the sharp, fresh air on his face.

"Yes," she said affectionately, ruffling his hair. "Now let's get you out of that ridiculous costume."

"Ridiculous?" Ben's theatrical indignation made her smile. "You mean you _don't_ find me incredibly irresistible right now?"

"I've been exercising a lot of self control," his wife responded, the corner of her mouth twitching. "But I guess the kids are gone." She pulled him down for a heated kiss, which Ben promptly ended.

"I can't," he announced dramatically. "Not while I'm wearing this. I feel like an idiot."

Mal laughed and took his arm, following him back to the castle through the wreckage that remained after the seventy-kid-strong rampage. The clean up crew bowed as they passed, some of them barely able to hide their mirth.

Ben sighed when they reached the tent he'd changed in. "No one is ever going to respect me again."

"That's not true. There's always Ethel."

He gave her a look. "Not. Helpful." Mal unzipped the back and the costume pooled around his feet, leaving him in athletic shorts and a thin T-shirt. "Wow, it's cold."

"Let's go inside." She wrapped her arms around him to keep him warm for the short walk back to the castle. "You did really well, Bunny Boo."

"You've got to stop with the puns."

"I wish I could. I think it's an illness."

Ben chuckled. He greeted the guards at the entrance, and immediately tugged Mal towards their wing so he could change into something presentable before too many people saw him. "I guess, looking back on it, it wasn't all that bad."

Mal kissed him on the cheek, murmuring in a venomously sweet voice, "I'm glad you think so. Because if you ever ditch me at some boring meeting again, I will sign you up to be the Easter Bunny every single year for the rest of your rule."


	10. Moments Like These (AU)

**Sorry it's short! I went through a lot of ideas and decided to stick with something resembling Beauty and the Beast. And yes, I've precluded the writing of any more sequels...less sorry about that :P**

* * *

Mal was pleasantly surprised to find Ben home early when she returned from work. "Short day?"

"Sort of." He grinned at her from his place by the stove. "Thought I'd make dinner."

"Wow." Mal eyed the impressive array of pots and pans scattered around the counter top and piled up in the sink, remembering why she never let him in the kitchen. She shook her head with a goodnatured smile and put away her shoes so she could walk over to see what he was cooking. Resting a hand on his shoulder and peering over it, she asked, "What's the occasion?"

"Just had some free time." Ben turned the stove off and faced her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. He locked gazes with her and his smile softened before he pulled her in for a kiss. "How was your day?" he murmured after a few seconds, stroking her hair.

"Better now." Ben was always affectionate, but this was definitely out of the ordinary, even for him. "Are you sure there's nothing going on?"

"Mm-hmm." Sensing her overt suspicion, Ben let go and returned to his creation. "Give me an hour, okay?"

"Okay."

She decided to spend the time catching up on some of the true-crime shows she enjoyed but Ben did not. Even though she was sitting in the bedroom, the aroma of dinner wafted in soon enough. It smelled delicious - it wasn't that Ben was a _bad_ cook, but he wasn't a practical one. He knew it, too. That was why he never -

 _Oh._ Mal relaxed in understanding, directing her attention back to the reenactment of a crime scene. Leaving early from work, surprising her with dinner, being secretive - he'd probably gotten the promotion he'd been gunning for. Ben abhorred the idea of nepotism and so despite working for his father's company, he'd started at the bottom and climbed up like everyone else. He deserved this. And besides...with the added stability and the extra pay...who knew what other conversations would come up?

She finished a couple of episodes and turned off her laptop, reentering the main apartment to find Ben lighting candles on the dinner table. Her suspicions confirmed, Mal started to congratulate him, but then decided she'd wait until he told her himself.

"This looks amazing," she said instead. Her boyfriend smiled and pulled out a seat for her.

Then, she noticed the centerpiece. Normally the bell jar she'd gotten for him a few months ago rested on their mantle, away from any sunlight or heat that could damage the preserved flower. But now it was in the middle of their kitchen table and, she observed with some alarm, one of the petals had fallen off.

"Ben! Did you see this?" she pointed out.

He glanced at the bell jar nonchalantly. "Oh, yeah. That's a little weird, huh?"

Mal couldn't explain why this distressed her so much. When she said she'd wanted to keep this flower forever, she meant it. It was like...some kind of symbol. It had been there at the start of their relationship, and it would be there until the very end. But if it was already falling apart...

 _Don't be stupid,_ she scolded herself. That didn't mean anything. What a ridiculous thought. Ben had put together a lovely date night for the two of them and here she was fretting about a rose petal, of all things. It was pretty hypocritical of her to accuse Ben of not being the practical one.

"Maybe you should check it out." He shrugged, taking his own seat. "You're the artist. You'll probably figure out what's wrong better than me."

That was true. Mal lifted the glass cover, and with it came the deceptively floating rose. The forlorn petal remained on the base.

The minute she touched it, though, Mal knew she had been wrong. This had come from a fresh flower - it wasn't dried out. And underneath there was...something. Mal picked up the petal to reveal a sparkling diamond ring.

Her heart stopped.

On the underside of the petal Ben had written, _Will you marry me?_

She looked up, but he no longer sat across from her. He'd stealthily moved beside her, and was on one knee, his hand reaching out, "Mal - oh geez - " Whatever he had to say was cut short by the most violent hug he'd ever received in his life. Mal had spilled out of her chair right on top of him, providing evidence as to why the strong base provided by the one-knee-kneel was needed for proposals. Ben didn't fall over, but came pretty close. Once he caught the breath that had been knocked out of him, he laughed.

"Is that a yes?"

A muffled affirmation came from the crook of his neck, and he accepted it, shifting to a more comfortable position so they could embrace each other properly.

"I love you so much, Mal."

"I love..." She withdrew just enough to talk but her vision had gone blurry. "Oh my God...I didn't think people ever actually cried when they were happy." Yet there she was, wiping away tears. Ben pressed his lips to her forehead but she pulled him down into a real kiss. They only broke apart after their dinner had gone cold.

This new rose petal was pressed and dried and eventually made its way into a scrapbook. Ben may not have used one of the original flower petals for his message, but Mal insisted on using them for everything else. The next page had the first petal to come off the preserved rose and on it was written _Ben and Mal, 6/12/18 -_ it was surrounded by pictures of their wedding day. The next: _Our first house!_ The view from the outside, the rooms filled with boxes, the struggles to move around furniture - it was all captured and arrayed around the dried petal. Then came _Amber, 5/1/20._ An ultrasound, a crying baby, a tired mother, a beaming father, excited grandparents. And so on, and so on...until there was only one petal left. It was never used, and it never fell. All of its compatriots were nestled snugly in Ben and Mal's scrapbook, chronicling a tale as old as time - that of everlasting love.


	11. A White Lie

**Hey everyone! This is Mal having enough of Ben's work habits.**

 **Also, shameless plug for my new story, The Fire In Her Eyes. I'm really excited about it, and I hope you guys like it!**

* * *

"I'm worried about you," Mal said bluntly as she was told, yet again, that she would be sleeping alone.

"I'm fine." Ben gave her a reassuring smile that did nothing to hide the bags under his eyes. "It's just a busy time. Once this bill gets through - "

"It's _always_ a busy time, Ben. You haven't been taking care of yourself for months now." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around the king. Ever the doting husband and father, Ben never failed to carve out time for his family. Mal saw, though, that it came at the expense of his health. Specifically - "You need to sleep."

He kissed her forehead and promised, "I will. I'll just be a couple of hours."

As expected, though, Mal woke to find the bed next to her empty. She dressed and then had some food delivered to Ben's office, where she found the king slumped over his desk, snoozing. A half-empty cup of cold coffee rested near his head, having utterly failed at its one job.

It was then that Mal decided she had to do something, and something that involved being just a _tiny_ bit villainous.

She slipped his planner out from under his awkwardly placed arm, perusing the various appointments. It was seven thirty, and the poor man had a council meeting at eight. The weekend was no better - chock full of project grant meetings, committees, trials, mediation. Mal pulled out her phone and snapped a picture, hurriedly putting everything away when a servant knocked on the door with food and Ben jolted awake.

"Mal?" he realized groggily. "How long have you been here?"

"I just came by to check on you. Please don't freak out, but you have to be at the council chambers in a few minutes." She walked over to the door to let in the servant while Ben's eyes widened in horror. "I said don't freak out! Eat first."

"No, I don't have time, I haven't prepared..." he muttered, shuffling files around and cursing as his notes fell to the floor. Mal wondered if he knew how much it broke her heart to see him like this.

"Ben." He ducked under his desk to pick up some errant papers. " _Ben."_ He finally looked up, only to have half a bagel shoved in his mouth. "Let me see those."

Chewing as fast as he could, he handed her a copy of the agenda covered in his scrawling handwriting. The council was apparently still debating how best to limit deforestation without attacking livelihoods, while adding new issues such as a suggested kingdom-wide curriculum change and restrictions on magical technology.

"Okay. Buy some time here - just open up a discussion and let them argue it out for a while. You'll find the pros and cons. Order a study to be done here - and if there are already a few, have it combined into a systematic review for a definitive answer...will it look obvious that you're BSing your way through this meeting if you say that twice?"

He shook his head, swallowing the rest of the bagel. "Systematic reviews are always a good answer. Maybe I'll make them the theme of this party." He grinned, having gathered what he needed, and kissed her before bolting out of the room.

Mal had places to be, too, but she called to let them know she would be delayed and would have to reschedule. The next hour was spent on the phone with everyone Ben was supposed to meet with that weekend. Where she could, she entered the appointments into her own calendar. Otherwise, she struggled to find a free spot for them in the coming week. Many of these obligations, she noted, could easily be delegated. Ben often fell into the trap of micro-managing. She would need to keep a closer eye on that.

Towards the end of the day, Mal joined him to hear the week's petitions by the people. She whispered, "There's something urgent that's come up. We'll need to leave right after this."

"What happened?"

"After."

Hiding his unease, Ben listened as one man stepped up to the microphone and read, "The Blacksmiths' Union request the audience of the King and Queen for a formal petition."

"Proceed."

"The Union wishes to implement standard safety practices in all forges..." The document went on to list several such practices, which were typed furiously by a royal stenographer. Ben promised to attend talks between the union and the forge owners, and make his decision then.

"The Abbott family request the audience of the King and Queen for a formal petition."

"Proceed."

This went on for at least another hour and Mal could see her husband becoming antsy. Eventually, the session ended and they were allowed to escape to a more private location.

"What's the emergency?"

"There was a disagreement between some higher-ups in Atlantis and Andalusia...They want us to sort it out, and both the courts are getting pretty uneasy about the whole thing."

"What disagreement?" Ben's phone pinged. He looked at it and frowned, but returned his attention to Mal.

"A territorial one?"

Ben tensed. Without warning, he slapped his hands onto the wall. " _Shoot._ We don't have time for this...Atlantis is under _water_ , how is there any question about territory...?" Mal rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I've got my hands full this weekend anyway, and now we're supposed to make a trip to that border? What about Amber?"

"Your weekend's taken care of," she told him softly. "And Amber's with Evie. All that's left is for us to go."

Guilty about his outburst, Ben faced her with that puppy-dog pout he didn't know he'd perfected. "What would I do without you?"

Mal shrugged, thinking, _Depending on how angry you get, we'll find out._

A limo was waiting for them, with Jane already in the backseat, her nails click-clacking on the phone screen while she texted away. "Good afternoon, Your Highnesses."

"Are you coming, Jane?" inquired Ben. She had become quite the confident and reliable royal secretary since her questionable high school days, and Mal trusted her to not get uncomfortable with a minor deception.

"No. But I've been briefed on the situation so I'm going to get you caught up."

Ben smiled in relief. Mal knew he had been prepared to spend the trip to the airport reading every breaking news article on the subject, as well as calling their contacts in both areas, in which case he would realize he'd been duped. Instead, Jane chattered on about a company in Andalusia trying to build an underwater hotel near a coral reef, which naturally had incensed the Atlanteans, who considered the reef a protected area. Mal was impressed. She'd asked Jane to find a cover story - this was not bad work for one hour.

By the time Ben realized they were not heading to the airport, it was too late. He stared suspiciously out the window at the passing landscape, which had become much sparser in houses and richer in trees. When he turned to ask the women, he saw sheepish looks on both of their faces.

"There is no underwater hotel, is there?"

"...Not exactly, no." Mal shot Jane a look to stay quiet. If Ben was getting mad at anyone, it would have to be Mal.

"What does that even mean?"

The partition between the driver and the passengers came down. "Your Highnesses, this is as far as I can take you."

Mal nudged her husband. "Get out of the car, Ben."

He looked like he was going to argue, and then he noticed a new object in Jane's hand. "Hey! That's my phone!"

"Leave it," said Mal before Jane could answer. "No phones. No e-mails. Jane is going to take all of your messages for you. If there's an emergency, she can contact me magically. _Not you."_ He wasn't moving, so Mal reached over to open his door and pushed him out, mouthing a 'thank you' to Jane on the way.

Upset, Ben frowned at her. Mal ignored him and waved at the driver to reverse. They were alone in a familiar forest, surrounded by fall colors.

She held out her hand. "You don't have a choice."

He took it, but was no less irritated. "This is technically abduction, you know."

"I know. I'll deal with the treason charges later. Do you know where we're going?"

Ben looked around. "Yes."

They crossed a rope bridge and continued down a dirt path, crunching leaves underneath their feet. At some point Mal had abandoned the hand-holding and wrapped her arm around his waist, leaning into him. Reluctantly, he did the same, though he told her in no uncertain terms that he was still angry.

The enchanted lake appeared, along with the spot where they had had their first date. Upon seeing a light picnic set up, Ben smiled before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to. Mal sat down and tugged him down next to her. "Did you have lunch?"

"...No."

She opened up the picnic basket and handed him a sandwich on a paper plate. He promptly began to inhale it before she stopped him. "Slowly. I think you've probably forgotten what food tastes like."

"Aaf mnow tasse rike," he countered, and she laughed. At least that encouraged him to eat at a more leisurely pace. "This is good," he admitted.

Mal rolled her eyes. Even when they had dinner together as a family, he'd race through it so he could feed his little girl and chat with his wife. "It's literally PB&J."

"So it is." He took another bite, thinking. "It's so quiet here."

"Nice, isn't it?"

"It's too soon for me to let this go, Mal."

"Yeah, okay." She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Why not just tell me?"

"I did. So many times. I'm pretty sure you've recycled your excuses twice already."

He finished his sandwich and dug around in the basket to see what else was there. A second sandwich, a couple of packets of chips, two water bottles, a container of strawberries for Mal, and another with a slice of cake. He fished out the water and took a drink. Mal waited anxiously for him to respond, and when he finally met her eyes again, she knew she was forgiven. "I'm sorry, too. You shouldn't have to take care of me like a second kid."

"That's not it at all, Ben. I just...I feel like you're running yourself into the ground, trying to do everything. It's okay to relax. It's actually a _necessity._ You're only human...sometimes I think you forget."

He chuckled. "Don't have time to remember."

"You need to make time," she reminded him earnestly, reaching out.

Ben took her hand, running his thumb over the back while he examined her face. She had always kept her most tumultuous emotions hidden. Most of the time, at least. "You really have been worried, haven't you?"

" _Yes."_

"Did I leave you all alone again? And the baby?"

"No," she answered quickly, cupping his cheek. "No. We see you every day, don't we?"

"Just making sure." He pulled out the strawberries, stretched, and then laid down with his head in her lap. "Would you hate me if I had one?"

Smiling, Mal opened the container and fed one to him. "Only one, though."

That warning wasn't necessary. A few seconds after she started stroking his hair, his eyes closed. Perhaps a minute after that, his breathing evened out, and he was fast asleep. Her smile stayed in place as she noted this was the most tranquil she had seen him in weeks. She didn't wake him, sitting silently and watching the breeze make ripples in the lake long after her leg had gone numb.

The moon shone brightly in the sky when Ben stirred, swatting at a mosquito that had landed on his face. His eyes opened and the alarm returned. His sudden movement startled Mal as he looked around, trying to remember how he had gotten here.

"It's okay, Ben. You just fell asleep for a little while."

"A little while? How long is a little while?"

Mal stood up and shook out her leg, which had begun to tingle. "Three hours."

"Oh my god."

"We have nothing to do, so don't worry. We're just going to walk to the campsite."

At his confused expression, Mal explained that she had had a stocked, fairly decked-out tent set up for the weekend, far away from any phones or computers. "You're going to rest and maybe get a few bug bites. That's it."

* * *

On Sunday evening they returned from their impromptu vacation. Ben looked a hundred times better after a couple of good nights of sleep, some real food, and much needed time alone with his wife. Jane was waiting for them when they returned, a slew of messages in her hand. Ben and Mal rummaged through the notes, divvying up responsibilities. Before they were finished talking to Jane, Evie had arrived with a very excited little girl in tow.

"Ba!" Amber held out her chubby arms to her father, who beamed and lifted her up.

"Thanks so much, E," said Mal.

"Anytime."

"How are you, sweetheart?" cooed Ben while the women chatted, tickling his daughter's tummy. She giggled and swatted his hand away. He kissed her forehead. "I missed you, little princess."

In reply, Amber pressed her palms on either side of his nose and screamed in delight before laughing hysterically. Ben raised an eyebrow at Mal. "What was that?"

"I honestly don't know. She just started doing it. She thinks people's faces are hilarious."

"King Ben," said Jane, "Sorry to interrupt, but you said something about the tax code review...?"

"Yes." Kissing his daughter one last time, he handed her off to Mal. "I want to talk to you about delegating that...and the Spring Ball...and a few other things."

Mal gave him an appreciative look before her eyes were covered by Amber's pudgy hands. The toddler screeched again and cracked up. Mal shook her head until the girl's hands slipped off and fondly told her, "You're so weird."

"You are _not_ weird," Ben corrected firmly. "Don't listen to her. You're unique and that's wonderful."

It didn't matter. Amber wasn't listening to anybody, instead having an animated conversation in baby babble with no one in particular.

"Okay. I've gotta go..." He enveloped his wife and daughter in a hug and kissed Mal. "...but not for too long."


	12. Ficlets

**Hey everyone! So I am officially out of ideas and I'm now taking requests! However, I have to warn you that I am not the best at getting to things in a timely manner...still, if there's something you'd like to see in a one-shot, let me know! Until then, my pet project is going to be The Fire In Her Eyes (in which the build-up is finished! I'm excited about that). And in case you haven't read on there, I'm looking for a backstory for Carlos that would fit with that story, so would love some suggestions!**

 **Here are some ficlets - too short to be stand-on-their-own stories.**

* * *

A Little Sweeter

"What kind are they, Mal?" asked Evie, leaning on the kitchen counter. Ben tried to sneak a taste of the cookie dough Mal was making, but she slapped his hand away.

"There are _raw eggs_ in there, Ben! Sorry, Evie, what did you - oh, I'm trying M&Ms this time. Request from Carlos."

"That kid is going to get diabetes in like two years if he's not careful," Evie deadpanned. "And if you keep enabling him."

"Really, how dangerous are raw eggs?" Ben reasoned, mostly to himself. The cookie dough looked delicious.

"At least someone enjoys the stuff I make," Mal shot back at Evie. "He doesn't nag about calories and sugar and fat and, god forbid, _whipped cream_ \- "

"Well, I'll be the one laughing when you've all got sugar-induced kidney injuries and my kidneys are just fine!" Evie replied in a sing-song voice. "Right, Benny-boo?"

Evie left to work on her homework while the king, who'd previously been analyzing the risks and benefits of the instant cookie gratification he craved, looked after her in confusion. "Why'd she call me Benny-boo?"

Mal aggressively mixed the M&Ms into the dough, causing a few of them to fly out. "To piss me off."

"Oh." He watched the unfolding mess with a raised eyebrow. "Did it work?"

She stopped trying to fight the thick dough for a moment. "...A little."

Jealousy was something she struggled with more than she was willing to admit, more than anyone except Evie knew about. It was one of those last villainous qualities that was taking a little work to get rid of. She was ashamed of it, though, and resolutely kept her gaze on the concoction in front of her. That was why it surprised her when she felt Ben's arms wrap around her waist, his chest against her back, his chin on her shoulder, his lips on her cheek. Her first instinct was to flinch - but he was used to this. He would always wait for her second reaction to know if that was what she meant. And in this case, her second reaction was to place her flour-covered hands over his arms to keep them where they were.

"Better?" he murmured in her ear.

"...A little," she repeated with the beginnings of a smile. He began to pull back, but her hands hadn't moved. "You know..." She bit her lip, uncertain. "You could...do this more often."

Surprised, Ben responded, "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She turned her head towards him, a pale blush on her cheeks, and reached up to caress the side of his face. He held her even tighter, and their lips met in a tender kiss that just kept going and going...

"MAL!" The two of them broke apart with a jump at Carlos's irritated voice. "Jay and I are dying of cookie withdrawal and you're over here _making out?!_ "

* * *

Boy Bands

 _"Don't care who you are / where you're from / what you did / as long as you love me..."_

" _What_ are you listening to?" Ben heard Mal's voice over the music in his ears. He took out an ear bud and offered it to her.

"Backstreet Boys."

Mal rolled her eyes and turned back to her reading assignment. "Of course you are."

His brows knitted together. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're adorable." She widened her eyes innocently, and if he didn't know her better, he would've fallen for it.

Regardless, he let it go with a suspicious 'hmm.' "You're pretty adorable too."

"Yeah, but I'm not 'fangirling over boy bands' adorable."

Mal shrieked as Ben poked her in the side, right where she was especially ticklish. "I am not _fangirling!"_

* * *

Tug-Of-War

Mal and Ben had not always cuddled while they slept. Initially, they had respected each others' space - however, this soon became far too much of a problem for poor Ben.

Within the first couple of nights of them sharing a bed, Ben would wake up all of a sudden, freezing, without anything to cover him. He'd look over at Mal, peacefully sleeping with his entire king-sized blanket wrapped around her like a cocoon. It was frankly a skill set, trying to untangle her without waking her up and pulling at least part of the covers over to himself. Still, in the morning, he would find that she had somehow taken them back.

When he told her, Mal was apologetic. "On the Isle, we fought for everything we had, all the time...I guess even when we slept." As with everything involving her childhood, Ben sympathized. He rubbed her shoulder, told her it would be alright, that they'd figure something out.

That 'something' turned out to be two blankets: one for him, and one for her. It wasn't ideal - it almost felt like they were in separate beds again. Almost.

Ben woke up again in the middle of the night, uncomfortably cold. "Seriously?" He instinctively looked to Mal, who, as expected, was tightly encased in her own blanket...but his was nowhere to be found. He peered over the side of his bed, but his floor was clear. Then he looked on her side.

His blanket was on the floor next to her in a heap. She had taken it without even using it. "Now that's just spiteful," he told his sleeping girlfriend, unwrapping her. Instead of pulling part of the covers over to his side, he embraced her tightly and nestled in close. "You're my blanket now."

And that ended up working just fine.

* * *

Queen

The wedding had been a whirlwind. Mal didn't mind. The most important part - _she was married to Ben_ \- it had happened. Everything else had been planned by others, assembled by others, cooked by others, chosen by others. It had been beautiful, of course, and no less than what was expected for a royal wedding. But to her, everything besides Ben was a minor detail.

He stood next to her as they greeted the guests walking into the reception, her hand firmly clasped in his. She hadn't slept the night before, hadn't eaten all day, and her cheeks hurt from smiling for all of the pictures, but every time their eyes met she felt herself smiling again. The crown weighed heavily on her head but the ring on her finger gave her the energy to get through all of this with a poise and grace she'd never before attributed to herself. _I'm his. He's mine._ And so it would be forever.

The Charmings had just given their well-wishes, Chad included. Mal rested her head on Ben's shoulder, her prediction about Evie's reaction at seeing her less-than-flawless foundation making the king laugh. She loved his laugh. She loved everything about him. _The first person I've ever loved, and today, he's my husband. My husband._

Then came the rather cheerless delegation from the moors. Audrey congratulated them in a tone that could only be described as apologetic. King Philip and Queen Aurora looked uneasy, but gave their blessings as well. The reason for their nervousness soon became clear: Queen Leah eyed the couple critically. Mal unconsciously moved closer to Ben, who was already a step ahead of her, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I never thought I would see the daughter of the woman who terrorized my family crowned in my presence."

" _Mother_!" hissed Aurora, tugging at the older woman's arm.

Mal remained silent, though her insides were in turmoil. Anything she said would only make it worse. She wondered if Leah saw the irony in coming to a joyous event and casting a dark cloud over it.

"Mal is not that person," Ben explained patiently, for the millionth time.

"Be that as it may, she will never be my queen."

Without missing a beat, Ben replied, "She already is."

* * *

Old McDonald's Farm of Thinly Veiled Threats

"Good job, sweetheart. And what does a cow say?" prodded Ben. The royal couple was spending a little time with their toddler daughter. Amber amazed them every day with how much she learned about the world around her, but there were a few favorite questions they liked to ask.

"Mooooo," Amber informed him. "Moomoomoomoo." It was her favorite sound so far.

"And what does a cat say?"

"Mee-ow."

"And what does a dog say?"

"Woof!"

Mal rolled her eyes. She knew where this game was going.

"And what does a lion say?"

"Raaaaahr." The little girl swiped at the air with claw hands.

Eyes twinkling, Ben asked, "And what does mommy say when she's cranky?"

"Raaaaahr!" Amber repeated her lion impression to Ben's peals of laughter. Seeing her father laugh, Amber joined in giggling though she was nowhere near old enough to get the joke.

"That will never not be funny," Ben said to his wife after he'd calmed down a bit.

Unfortunately for him, Mal was prepared this time. "Amber, what does daddy do when mommy is cranky?"

The toddler got up, held her hands in front of her chest like rabbit paws, and preceded to clumsily jump around the room.

Ben's expression immediately soured. "You told her about the Easter Bunny thing?"

"Well, she needs to know eventually so she can...oh wait, do children not blackmail their parents around here?"

"You know they don't," Ben grumbled, catching his daughter in a bear hug and making her squeal. "I'm also pretty upset I missed the training session where you demonstrated how to hop like a bunny. Please tell me someone recorded that."

* * *

Do You Love Me?

Mal had just finished a series of individual decrees for newly born children to be brought over from the Isle. It was getting close to the point where the aging villains would stop being able to have kids, and she wouldn't have to do these anymore. At the moment, that sounded great. It was past eight o'clock and she had probably missed her daughter's bedtime.

When she made it to the four-year-old's room, Ben was already there, just having finished a bedtime story. Mal leaned on the door frame, smiling at the two of them. "I think I'm going to eat you like the Cookie Monster eats cookies."

"No!" shrieked Amber. "Don't eat me!"

"Did I hear you say _do_ eat me?"

"No, don't!"

Ben leaned in menacingly, and the little girl was in hysterics, swatting him away. Instead of biting, as he had pretended to prepare for, he tickled her stomach and planted a kiss on her forehead. "Whose little princess are you?"

"Daddy's!"

"That's right." He noticed Mal watching them and smiled at her.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"You love me, right?"

"Of course."

"Why doesn't Mommy love me?" she asked innocently.

Mal's heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach. Her eyes went wide and her hands flew to cover her mouth. Nothing, _nothing,_ had ever hurt so much as hearing those words come from her daughter's lips. Ben looked up in a panic, and asked, "Why would you think that, Amber?"

Unable to listen, Mal fled. She threw open the doors to the nearest room and tried not to cry. After everything, after all she'd worked for, she'd still failed. She was just like her mother. Amber hated her. She was still nothing more than a villain and thank god her daughter at least had Ben or she would have the same horrible childhood as Mal did and continue this cycle of not being able to love -

Ben burst in. "Mal!" She turned to him, her stomach churning and her vision blurring.

"Why does she think I don't love her?" Mal whispered.

Her husband hugged her tightly, as if trying to squeeze all the doubt out of her. "Mal, she was just being a kid. She said it was because you wouldn't get her another pony for her birthday this year. It was nothing. She just doesn't understand."

Mal pulled away. "So what? Do we just get her the horse?" She was more than willing to; it was a small price to pay for her daughter's well-being.

"No." Ben kissed her cheek and wrapped her in his embrace again, rubbing her back to comfort her. She buried her face in his shoulder, her tears dampening the fabric of his suit jacket. "We don't want to spoil her; that's no good either. You did the right thing. You're a good mother, Mal, you really are. I would tell you if something was wrong. I would." He pressed his lips to the top of her head. "She doesn't know what that means. She's just a child. It's going to be a long, long time before she gets it - and it's going to be hard sometimes. I mean, the minute she becomes a teenager, she's going to _hate our guts._ " Mal sputtered out a laugh at that, but with her wavering voice it sounded more like a sob. "But it won't be because of anything you've done. I promise."

"Mommy? Why are you crying?"

The two adults separated, looking behind them to see a sleepy Amber toddling into the room, dragging along her teddy bear. She approached her mother and held up the stuffed animal by the arm. "You can have Benny Bear if you want. He makes me feel better."

It was unbelievable how quickly this girl could change Mal's mood. Touched, she leaned down and picked up her daughter, bear and all. "That's really nice, baby." She kissed her daughter's cheek uncertainly. "But I have my own Benny Bear to make me feel better." She exchanged loving glances with her husband.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

Amber pointed an accusing finger at Ben and tattled, "Daddy didn't finish tucking me in."

Ben gaped dramatically. "What?!"

"You'd better take care of that," Mal informed him, smiling with a residual sniffle and handing Amber off.

"You did it wrong," Amber told him, disappointed.

"I'm so sorry, princess. Let's make sure I do it right this time. Say goodnight to Mommy."

Amber cuddled up to her father and her bear, waving at her mother with her free hand. "Good night, Mommy. I love you."

Mal's heart could hardly handle it. The two people she cared for most in the world walked off, safe and happy in each other's arms, and truly, what more could she ask for? "Good night, baby. I love you, too. So much."


	13. The Fairest (AU)

**Hi everyone! This is the first of the requests from Twilightandpercyjacksonlover30 - set in medieval times. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Claire12 - I haven't forgotten you! I am trying to think up a new and creative spin on your idea, so I apologize for not writing yours first (since you did request first) but I will certainly do so as soon as I have something!**

 **Eli201 - First of all, thank you so much for your constant support (and my other guest reviewers - since you, SusieBeast, kate cheese, and EvelynGrimhilde6 generally review around the same time I like to think that you guys are friends who get together to read fanfics, which is AWESOME and I wish I had friends like that! But maybe that's not the case and I'm just imagining things, lol). Secondly, I think your idea is adorable and heartwarming. I do tend to put my own spin on things, so I can't 100% guarantee that it will be that story line (I am so sorry if you wanted it exactly that way! While I'm writing I always tend to go "oh! what if such-and-such happened?") but I will keep your guidelines in mind while I write it :)**

 **Darkmaster of the arts - I am also thinking about a one-shot with Mal telling Ben about her life on the Isle! But if that's not what you meant please let me know :)**

* * *

Every year, King Adam and Queen Belle hosted a jousting tournament in which any knight of the realm could participate. Citizens from across Auradon flocked to the castle grounds, where colorful tents housed contestants and high-rising bleachers surrounded a long field. Horses huffed impatiently at scurrying squires, hawkers sold wares among the cheap seats, and the general excited chatter was carried by the wind to create a lively atmosphere. The King and Queen had settled into their thrones, which had been brought to the platform with the best view of the tournament, under bright banners adorned with their crest. An empty, extravagantly decorated chair remained next to Queen Belle. Normally Prince Benjamin sat with them, but this year he felt ready to enter as a contender.

After the first round, however, he was feeling not-so-ready. The normally enthusiastic cheering had been hushed somewhat by the entrance of Lady Maleficent, ruler of the Isle of the Lost. Ben was sure his parents had not invited her - equal parts feared and hated, Maleficent governed the Isle as though it was a prison, making it a vile, dark place. Auradon had a long history of trying to depose her, attempting to remove citizens from the Isle, and placing sanctions covering many exports. Needless to say, she was not wanted. The shadow she cast had dampened everyone's spirit.

Then, Ben had been pitted against Chad Charming - an old friend, and one Ben had beaten many times in practice. Ben managed to knock Charming off of his horse, but at the cost of his right shoulder - thrown back by the impact of his lance on Chad's armor, it had dislocated. He was in an exquisite amount of pain, and the games had just begun.

"Your Highness, I am not qualified to set this," his squire Douglas told him anxiously. "Though if you would like, I can try..."

"I would rather you didn't," Ben replied through clenched teeth. "Would you mind finding a physician of some sort?"

"Yes, Your Highness." Doug hurried out.

Ben had managed to ride his horse back to the temporary stables, but the agony of alighting had made him loathe to move from his spot. It was just as well; he did not want other challengers to see him this way, partly because they would know exactly which spot on his body to target.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on his own breathing, getting a little relief by staying completely still. It was then that he heard a soft voice - female, by the pitch - somewhere off to his side. He could not see its owner, his view blocked by the walls of his horse's stall, but she appeared to be talking to another horse. "Shh...I will not hurt you. I am just going to pet you...there we go. That was not so bad, was it?"

"Hello? Is someone there?" he called.

The voice silenced. He heard footsteps, getting louder as they approached - and then the stall door opened.

A slender, petite woman around his age stood in front of him. Her chiffon dress, with its intricate embroidery and embellishments, told him she was royalty or close to it. Her skin was as pale as the moon, her eyes green like emeralds. It was the purple hair, however, that made Ben wary. Beautiful as it was, he knew of no one with hair like that among the upper class of Auradon. And he knew them all.

"Who are you? Why are you not watching the tournament with the other guests?" he asked.

She bit her lip before answering. "I am Mal, daughter of Maleficent." Ben held his breath. "And I am not with the guests because the other young ladies of the court made it very clear I am not welcome." Though she probably intended for that sentence to be bitter and scornful, Ben detected just a hint of sadness. His heart went out to her, and strangely, he relaxed a little. "You are Prince Ben, aren't you? What are you doing on the floor of a stable?" she asked him.

"My shoulder has dislocated." He pointed to the very obviously awkward angle of his arm with his free hand, and winced. "My squire has gone to find someone who can help."

"Oh. May I see?"

"There is not much to see besides this," Ben remarked, but she came closer anyway.

Suddenly, her hands grasped his shoulder and she popped the joint back into place.

Ben yelped in pain and shock, but then only a dull ache remained. Mal examined her handiwork and then patted him on the arm. "You should rest your arm for a few days."

"And _you_ \- " he shot back, " - should come with a warning. Good lord."

She smiled and extended a hand to help him up. "There is no need to be such a child. It is better to set it unexpectedly. People who are braced for it are more resistant."

He took it, raising his eyebrow. "And how would you know this?"

"Everyone knows how to take care of these things where I am from. They happen quite often." At the look he gave her, she frowned. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Uh...no. It is a cultural difference, I suppose," Ben covered hastily while testing the range of motion of the newly fixed joint. In the back of his mind he wondered if she had ever come to the mainland before, and what a childhood isolated in a place filled with such violence was like. "Well, I should thank you. I have time to wrap it before I am called again."

Her eyes narrowed. "You are going to continue jousting? With that arm?"

"Yes. I am still in the bracket," he pointed out.

"You are a fool."

Ben had not expected to be spoken to this way today, or any day. He sputtered, "I am your prince!" at her audacity.

Mal simply shrugged. "You can be both."

He was laughing before he had even registered his own disbelief. "Mal of the Isle, I have known you for ten minutes, but I can confidently say you are something else entirely."

She smirked. "Be that as it may, you should drop out. Your shoulder still needs to heal further."

"It would be looked down upon if I were to do so," Ben explained. Mal 'tsk'ed in disapproval, but gave up. "Which horse were you looking at, just now?"

He followed her out of the stall and she pointed at a pitch black steed a few stalls away. "It is beautiful."

"Yes," Ben agreed as they walked over. He wracked his mind to remember whose horse this was, but came up with nothing. "And strong, by the looks of it."

"I have never seen a horse before," said Mal, reaching out to stroke its mane. The animal snuffled at the sleeve of her dress, but did not protest.

"Really?"

"It is for the best. They would only be killed and eaten on the Isle," she replied matter-of-factly. Yet again, Ben struggled to hide his surprise, and changed the subject.

"We should return to the field, or at least the outlying tents. I fear if I am caught anywhere near another man's horse I will be accused of sabotage."

Mal continued running her fingers over the horse's snout, replying, "Then you should go. I quite like it here."

"Mal," Ben insisted, forcing her to look at him. "Come with me. I know someone who would be glad to have you join her."

Still skeptical, Mal nonetheless took his offered - uninjured - arm and walked towards the sound of cheering. They continued to chat on the way, intercepting Doug and the physician he had found.

Ben learned that Mal preferred the sport of knife-throwing and was quite adept at it herself, a claim he found so absurd he had thought she was joking for a few minutes. "I enjoy fencing - longer knives, less throwing," he teased. Mal rolled her eyes. "But jousting has its merits. It is more entertaining for spectators, certainly."

"Perhaps for the men. I cannot imagine why a young woman of class would voluntarily watch such a barbaric display," said Mal sarcastically.

He had a feeling this was a jab at his previous incredulity, but he laughed anyway. "For the end, I think. The winner chooses the fairest maiden to accompany him to the victory feast, and they are all certain they will be the one."

"No _wonder._ I thought it so strange that they would sit in the sun for hours done up like Christmas trees. That makes much more sense."

"Mmhmm. And here you are adorned only with hay and good sense." He picked a strand of straw from her hair and waved it in front of her face.

"Put that back," ordered Mal, grinning. "It compliments my eyes."

"It does no such thing."

By the time they reached the bleachers, they were giggling like schoolgirls - at least, until Ben gestured for Mal to ascend the steps to the raised platform.

"What...?"

"Come," he told her, leading her to the empty seat beside his mother. The Queen and King greeted their son, looking at the unknown girl with interest. Mal avoided their eyes, attempting a clumsy curtsy. Below them, two contestants rode towards each other at full speed.

"Who is your friend, Ben?" asked King Adam.

"Mother, Father, this is Mal, the daughter of Maleficent. She has never before been to Auradon and I would like for her first visit to be a memorable one. As I will not be using this chair today...?"

The King was understandably hesitant. His eyes went wide at the mention of her mother and he opened his mouth to voice his reluctance, but Queen Belle beat him to it. She extended a hand to Mal and said, "Oh, you poor dear, you must not know anyone here."

Mal accepted the Queen's hand with a quick, unsure glance at Ben. He gave her a reassuring smile. "I leave you in good hands. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Prince Ben," she whispered. Her eyes had found her mother's in the bleachers next to them among the older ladies. Ben noticed the women were giving Maleficent a wide berth, despite the crowded conditions. Maleficent looked furious, seeing her daughter with the King and Queen.

"Are you alright?" he asked her softly. He nodded his head in Maleficent's general direction to alert his mother and father.

Mal looked back at him, a tiny bit of defiance in her gaze. "Yes. Please be careful." she gestured at his arm.

"I will."

When he left them, Mal was explaining the injury to Queen Belle and both the women were agreeing that continuing in the competition was folly. It was too late - he was out of their reach. He returned to his tent, where Doug was waiting with a long strip of cloth to wrap around and stabilize his shoulder.

For the next round, Ben's opponent wore the colors of the Sultan of Agrabah - perhaps a son, or one of the knights. It was impossible to tell, as the man's helmet covered his face. Ben climbed onto his horse and accepted a lance from Doug, then trotted over to his end of the field. A crier announced their names and ranks, and then they were off, accelerating to a gallop. Ben watched every movement of his opponent with a keen eye, waiting for just the right moment - and sure enough, the Agrabahi leaned a little too far - Ben's aim was true, and his lance caught the man just under his stabilizing knee. The oncoming lance bounced off Ben's chest with quite a bit of force, but not enough. As the prince rode away, he knew the challenger had landed in the dirt by the screams from the crowd around him. He coughed - it had been a rib-jarring blow - and then removed his helmet to smile and wave at the onlookers. Over by his parents, Mal was grinning with excitement.

And so it continued, a dramatic spectacle full of surprise outcomes, back-breaking crashes, suspense, and victory. At the end of it all stood Ben, somehow still on his horse and more or less in one piece. When the last contender fell, the prince was rather surprised to find he had won. He had a suspicion it was because of his status as both a member of the ruling family and the host of this event, though he hoped no one had felt so intimidated they purposefully lost. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to accept a light golden chain, his prize as the victor. It glinted in the sunlight, hanging halfway down his chest. Among thunderous applause, he climbed back on his horse before also accepting a single red rose.

He could see the unmarried ladies of the court giggling and faking humility as they insisted their friends were far more deserving. Ben did not even ride in their direction. He led his horse to where his parents sat, where Mal sat, and held out the rose with a grin.

"Mal of the Isle, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to tonight's feast?"

A hush fell over the entire crowd. Ben hardly noticed - a lovely blush had bloomed over Mal's cheeks, and her eyes were wide with surprise. King Adam looked as though he might faint, though Queen Belle was beaming. Mal suddenly realized she had not moved, and jolted out of the chair to come closer.

"Was it the hay that did the trick, then?" she asked him, a smile tugging on the corner of her mouth.

"Rather, the lack thereof," he jokingly replied.

She reached for the flower, her fingers lingering over his for a moment more than needed. Ben's smile diminished of its own accord, but only to soften. Mal held the rose close to her chest and answered softly, "Thank you." He waited. "Oh! And yes."

The noise had risen again from whispers to chatter. Ben bowed as best he could from his seat on the horse, waved to his parents, and then took a victory lap, his helmet raised in the air. More applause followed him.

He was looking forward to dinner.


	14. Damage Control

**Hello everyone, apologies for the long wait. This is in response to Claire12's prompt: the use of the love potion getting out. There are some references to Give Me A Reason in here (so not the canon universe) but they're small enough that you don't need to read that story to read this one.**

* * *

It was everywhere before Mal even woke up.

Evie was shaking her, urgently calling her name. Mal tried to protest, but suddenly she had a smartphone shoved in her face with a news article on the screen. The title blared: KING COERCED WITH LOVE POTION.

Perhaps because Ben's coronation had occurred only two weeks ago, it took a while for the words to register. _Who spelled Adam?_ Mal wondered sleepily. Then she remembered Ben was king. And the love potion they were talking about - that was hers.

Her name appeared in multiple places in the article. Like all good authors, however, the journalist did not like to reuse words - even names - all that much, and had elected to replace 'Mal' with 'daughter of Maleficent' at least seven times. Mal read through it with horror, and looked up to see her roommate covering her mouth with her hands.

"How did they find out?" Evie whispered.

"I...I don't..." Ben had told his parents the whole story the day after they had started dating 'for real' - for obvious reasons, they had not taken it well. So that brought the total number of people who knew up to seven. Mal hadn't told anyone, meaning there were six possible leaks...realistically, though, Ben and her friends would know better than to jeopardize the new, fragile goodwill they had acquired after defeating Maleficent. So that left Belle and Adam.

No. Ben had mentioned it over dinner. Was Mal already becoming so accustomed to royal life that she had dismissed from her notice the servants who entered and left several times throughout the meal? Who knew how many mouths had shared such scandalous gossip?

"What do we do?"

Mal could not answer. The accusations, the claims, the theories - they were all the more painful because the vast majority had been true, at first. She had tricked Ben into loving her so she could eventually steal the crown. She had put him and all of Auradon in danger. She had used him like he was nothing to her. The guilt already kept her up at night, taking its place among her usual nightmare fodder, but to see it in print - to know that this is what Auradon now thought of her, what Belle and Adam might think of her...what Ben might think of her...

There was a loud rapping on the door, and an unfamiliar male voice. "Mal of the Isle, you are being summoned to council chambers. We are here to escort you."

The girls exchanged fearful glances. Hesitantly, Mal opened the door to see two members of the Royal Guard waiting impatiently outside. On one hand, the small part of Mal's brain that had gone completely off the end found this hilarious. These two men, with their pistols and swords, were supposed to contain _her_? Should she decide to, she could burn them to a crisp along with anyone else who stood in her way...

No. The evil thoughts had to stop. They were fewer and farther in between, but in moments of anxiety like this, Mal regressed. "Can I at least change?" She had been sleeping in loose shorts and a t-shirt.

"That is not necessary. We must take you immediately."

Evie moved fast, throwing a jacket in Mal's direction. Mal put on her shoes, bid her best friend goodbye, and allowed one of the men to lead her. They tried grabbing onto her shoulders like a prisoner. She shrugged them off, her eyes flashing bright green for a moment, and said, "I'm cooperating. You don't want to make me uncooperative."

They got the hint, and walked on in silence. Out of the Auradon Prep dormitory, into a waiting car, onto the highway, and off at the exit for the Parliamentary Houses they went. Mal knew she was now minutes away from Ben's home castle. She had only visited once.

The guards shuffled her past a massive sculpture of weighing scales into a large stone building decorated with fake columns and overly extravagant carvings. Instead of walking into the Grand Courtroom, where the council regularly met, the men took her down a long hallway and deposited her in a small room with a suspiciously heavy door. Her fears were confirmed when they locked it behind her.

She didn't even have a phone or any way of contacting Ben, though getting signal in here would probably require magic - not that she had her spell book, either. The room was empty except for a chair, a table, and a wall clock. Mal sat.

For the first thirty minutes, she stared at the door, waiting for someone to open it again.

For the next hour, she tried not to listen to the tick-tock of the clock - it was the only sound in the room and it was driving her crazy.

After that, she broke the clock to silence it and no longer knew how much time had passed. What was going on? Where was Ben? Why wouldn't he come get her? She really hadn't had time to change into something more presentable? And the worst question, which she refused to think about - did Ben know she was being treated like a prisoner? Did he...order it?

Mal had gone through the list of spells she had memorized about three times, but could not think of one that would allow her to escape without consequently confirming that she was destructive or monstrous or whatever else Auradon thought about her. She wondered where her friends were, and what kind of treatment they were getting. The four of them couldn't catch a break - though they did kind of deserve to be punished for this one.

Finally, the door slammed open. At first, Mal flooded with relief - it was Ben on the other side. Then she noticed how angry he was - not angry, furious. In a rage, which twisted his face and almost made him look a tiny bit scary. She froze, suddenly unsure.

Then - " _They've been keeping you here this whole time?!"_

Mal relaxed. He wasn't mad at her, though he would need some calming down.

"Ben - "

There were some words she never thought she would hear Ben use. Surprise, surprise.

"Ben, just tell me what's going on!"

She had to walk over to him and physically block the fist he was slamming into the door over and over again as he cursed himself and the council and quite a few other things that Mal didn't think were relevant. Once she had a hold of his wrist, he paid more attention to what she was saying, though his breathing did not slow and his face did not get any less red.

"They called an _emergency council meeting_ about some _stupid article_ and I came - I was going to have you come eventually too but _not like this_ \- plus half the council wasn't even there yet and we had to wait, so I was doing some other stuff and I had my phone off - and now that I think about it that's the _dumbest rule_ in a courthouse that I have EVER heard, so of course I missed like twenty calls from Evie because she doesn't know to have messages forwarded from the front desk. I had no idea, Mal, I swear. I had no idea you were stuck here this entire time because there was no point in you coming before the session even started! I didn't even think they - God, and they pulled you out of _bed_!" he exclaimed incredulously.

"Who are 'they'?" she asked, much more quiet.

Ben's expression darkened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Could've been anyone. My parents called this session, trying to get ahead of the news. A bunch of people in there looked really smug, and I thought it was because they were going to say 'I told you so' but maybe it was because of this. Ultimately, though, it's the court officers who came to get you, whether they were following someone's orders or not."

"They were wearing Royal Guard uniforms."

Another slew of those words that sounded so, so strange coming from Ben. By way of explanation, he growled, "My dad."

Mal knew Adam had not accepted her. He had told her as much during the aforementioned dinner. But to imprison her like this? To willfully keep Ben in the dark? She was at a loss for words, but she knew one thing. However betrayed she felt, Ben was feeling it multiplied a thousandfold.

She pulled him into a hug, and he returned it almost a little too tightly. "You've got to calm down, Ben," she murmured. "Whatever's going on, it's in a courtroom. I don't know the law as well as you, and I'm sure as hell not as diplomatic as you. If I'm out there by myself, I'm just going to make it worse. I really need you right now."

She felt him nod. "Yeah. Okay." Ben pressed a kiss to her cheek. "We'll figure this out."

* * *

They returned to the chamber, as Ben had apparently run out the minute an unwitting court officer told him the 'prisoner' was already in the building. Mal felt ridiculous, dressed as she was in a room full of royals wearing stern suits. Ben did not let go of her hand.

Mal was unfamiliar with this room. The door opened into a hallway flanked by triangular walls, which led to the center of the room. The floor level was only a small square of carpet, large enough to fit a chair (with built-in restraints) and some standing room on all sides. All around were rising theater-style seats, at least fifteen rows. Only the first row was occupied. Mal recognized Fairy Godmother, Adam and Belle, Cinderella and her Prince Charming, Queen Elsa, Princess Anna and her husband Kristoff, Princess Aurora, Prince Philip, Queen Leah, King Stefan, Queen Ariel, and King Eric - the council members who had been close enough at the time to attend the emergency meeting. A computer was being held up by a court officer on a railing in front of the seats - the remaining council members, too small for Mal to see, had video called in.

"What gave you the right?" Ben snarled at his father the minute they walked in. The other members muttered among themselves, while Adam stiffened.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You sent for Mal to be held here, without being told anything!"

Belle gave her husband an astonished look, but Adam held his ground. "Yes, I did. Son, you will understand - "

"Don't!" Mal did not know whether he was interrupting his father, or telling her not to sit in the chair she had begun walking towards. Either way, she stayed put.

"Please take note - " Chad's father told the stenographer. "The accused has entered sans summons."

"Accused of what?" Ben and Mal demanded at the same time.

"Sweetheart." Belle, at least, sounded troubled. "After reading today's Auradon Daily, someone brought up the point that you might still be spelled."

Ben was shocked into silence, and Mal's insides went cold. Effectively, the spell had been broken three times - once in the Enchanted Lake, once by true love's kiss, and once by the antidote itself. That had clearly not been enough for some people. They thought she was controlling their king.

She could see Ben's mind working, finally realizing the true situation they were in. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, he was ready.

"What is the evidence?"

More muttering. "There is none," admitted Aurora. "But there is doubt, and it must be addressed."

Great. So much for innocent until proven guilty.

"And how do you plan to address it?" the king asked evenly.

"Well," Ariel looked uncomfortably at her peers. "Is there a way to prove you are not under the influence of a love potion?"

Ben glanced at Fairy Godmother, who opened her mouth to say something. Leah cut her off. "There is one way."

Adam asked her, "And what is that?'

The old queen stared impassively back at him. "The spell dies with the caster."

It was as if someone had pressed a 'mute' button. A cough would have sounded like a jet engine at that moment. No one dared breathe. Mal took a step back, for the first time wondering if she would have to fight her way out of here.

Instead of losing his head, however, Ben responded, just as calmly, "Queen Leah, if you dare advocate for someone's murder again, I will have you charged with homicidal intent."

His statement broke the thick veil of stillness that had settled over the council. "You impertinent brat!" Leah barked, while Stefan protested in an equally disrespectful manner at her side. Other council members admonished and silenced them, but Adam's voice carried over them all.

" _That is my son!_ And your king! You will not speak to him that way!"

"Dad. It's fine. If she wants to remain a council member, she'll act like one," Ben said evenly. Mal was not fooled. There was a storm brewing under the surface. "She shouldn't have to be reminded to conduct herself in a manner pursuant to her station. She should know better."

Leah gaped as the humiliation of being told off by a teenager in front of her younger peers began to hit her. Before the bickering began again, Fairy Godmother interjected, "Excuse me! Excuse me, but there is another way...less violent." She glared pointedly at Leah. "We can brew the antidote here, in the council chambers, and King Ben can consume it. If there is no love spell, he will not be harmed. And if there is, we will know." She looked around for approval. Mal sighed in relief. Hopefully there would be no fighting today.

"Perfect," Ben said at once. "All in favor?"

Considering the last suggestion, the council was only too happy to vote for this one.

* * *

While Fairy Godmother started to acquire the ingredients and follow the instructions, Mal and Ben ascended the steps to sit behind Belle and Adam. Mal could not find it in her to greet the former king, and instead mumbled, "Hello Belle." Not her full title, but Mal was a bit irked with her as well.

Adam ignored her. "Ben, I understand you think this is unfair. However, there are things that a father must do - "

Ben held up a hand and just gazed at Adam sadly. "Dad...I'm not mad anymore." His father frowned, and even Mal was a little confused, because Ben certainly did not look happy. "I'm not mad. I'm disappointed." Belle inhaled sharply, and Adam's frown deepened. "All my life I looked up to you, considered you a hero and a role model. I wanted to be like you - both as a king and as a man. I know kids get to this point where they realize their parents are human but I've gotten to the point where I realize...you just want her to suffer. You want them all to suffer. You'll be sure there's a back-up reason, but you'll take every opportunity to make them pay - for your mistake. She wouldn't have done any of the things she did if she'd been raised in Auradon in the first place." Ben sighed heavily. "Dad, I know you love me. I love you, too. And I want you to know I'm glad you raised me the way you did. But after all the things you've done to innocent kids, I can't...I can't respect you anymore. This was just the last straw. I'm sorry. I really am. I just wish...I wish you'd done the right thing."

Belle had tears in her eyes, and her husband was as taken aback as Mal was. No one said anything. Mal noticed a tear fall down Ben's cheek as well, but she was paralyzed by what he'd said and couldn't reach out.

A sheepish Fairy Godmother tapped Ben on the shoulder. "I am so, so sorry to interrupt this family discussion, serious as it is, but...I need that." She swiped Ben's tear with her finger, much to the astonishment of all four of them, and returned to the potion.

Mal glared at the woman's retreating figure, but was finally able to cover Ben's hand with her own. She only saw pain in his eyes when he turned to look at her. That was the moment, Mal thought later, that she vowed to never commit an act of evil ever again. She never wanted to be the reason Ben felt this way.

"I'm sorry Auradon keeps trying to hurt you," he told her. "And I'm sorry I'm not enough to keep you safe."

"You are!" she protested. "Ben, you think I've never had my life threatened before? Yeah, it sucks that this happens here, and that it's just us Isle kids targeted, but it's still a million times better than the Isle. And that's because of you." She squeezed his hand. "I have a home, because of _you_. You're - " Mal had never been very good with 'the mushy stuff', as she had previously referred to these conversations. "Just...don't think you're not enough. You're...everything."

She had gotten Ben to smile. It was the little victories, Mal learned.

"Darling." At first, Mal thought Belle was talking to Ben, but then the Queen Mother placed a hand on her knee. "I am so sorry for what we put you through today. And every day. Ben is right; this was the wrong thing to do." Mal appreciated it, but couldn't help feeling it was too little, too late.

"Yes. So _sorry,_ " spat Adam. "It's all our fault, isn't it? All my fault. My fault for trying to keep my kingdom safe. My fault for bringing peace to Auradon these twenty years. So _sorry_ that you had to endure injustice for that to happen!"

"Injustice?" Mal repeated quietly before Ben rebutted. "I've been beaten, cut - " She still had her scars from the fight with her mother, but there were much older ones she bore - some on her arms and easy to show. " - isolated, starved, locked up. My friends have been abused, molested, nearly killed. But no, thanks for your insincere apology. It means a lot." She shook her head in frustration. "Why is it so hard for you to understand that we were innocent - all we did was _exist -_ and you treated us like the worst criminals in your kingdom?" Her voice slowly rose. "Why did you keep us there? Why didn't you care about us? What had we done to you to deserve that? How could you sleep at night knowing you could have saved the lives of all the children who died on that island, but chose not to? _Why didn't you ever come for us, Adam?"_ Her voice was shaking more than she wanted it to, but she'd been waiting a long time to say that. Sixteen years of seeing Auradon just across the bay and wondering why she couldn't be there.

Adam finally listened to her. He could not avoid it - had she been any louder, others nearby would have heard and at first, he was trying to save face. The more she spoke, however, the more wound up he got - she fully expected him to punch her in the face at any moment. Instead, he choked out a sob and shouted, "Because I am a monster, is that what you want to hear? I let children die, even though I knew they had committed no crime. I did not want to give them a chance, and I never wanted to find out if I was wrong about them. I want you to be evil. I want to be justified. I am waiting for you to show your true colors because I want to be right. Because I cannot afford to have been wrong. Because _otherwise it means I am still the Beast I always was._ " Everyone was looking now. "You win, Mal. You are a saint, and I am an animal. You are good, and I am evil."

Ben's face paled. Mal doubted he had ever seen his father like this. Belle was crying, rubbing Adam's arm and trying to convince him, "You're not. You've changed, Adam, you have."

"Dad..." Ben whispered. "This was never about winning or losing. All I wanted was to see you take responsibility. You taught me that's what a good king does. And I thought you, more than anyone else, would know what it's like to be isolated and attacked just because people are scared of you - without knowing anything about you."

The former king buried his face in his hands. "Well, then I was not a good king." His voice was muffled by his palms. "That's what you wanted to hear, right? I was wrong. I am the villain here, for allowing this to happen under my rule. So put me on the Isle, son. Give me the punishment you think I deserve."

"Don't guilt him." Mal wished she hadn't opened her mouth. "Just because that's the punishment you _know_ you deserve." It was the first time she'd gotten a glare from Belle, and even Ben gave her a look that said _too far._

She tended to forget, in her hatred of this man, that he was still Ben's father.

So she sat back, and watched as Fairy Godmother put the finishing touches on the brew. Adam had retreated to Belle's arms, more broken and unsure than ever before. Despite everything, she felt a pang of pity for him. Perhaps things would change, now. Maybe he would never approve of her as Ben's girlfriend, but if he could stop randomly imprisoning her, that would be a start.

* * *

Ben held a cup of water in his hands, and Fairy Godmother dropped barely a teaspoon of the antidote into it. Ben grimaced at Mal. "I really do prefer baked goods when I'm being spelled."

She nearly said, "I'll keep that in mind," but decided this was not the time nor the place.

He gulped down the glass. Mal was the only one in the room who wasn't waiting with bated breath. It was a nice feeling, to be so sure of how he felt. One constant in a life full of variability.

"Still love me?" she asked him after he'd set the glass down.

Ben grinned. "Still love you."

Mal would never admit how eagerly she'd embraced him then. Kissing him was out of the question in such a formal setting, so it was the best she could do. He caught her gracefully and stroked her hair. Someone, possibly Anna, had started clapping, but almost immediately stopped. The rest of the council spoke to each other in low voices. About what, Mal didn't care. "It's over now," Ben murmured happily. "Hopefully forever."

"I hope so, too." She pulled back enough to rest her forehead on his, and sighed dramatically. "Worst day ever."

Ben winced. "You were nearly gored to death by a dragon two weeks ago."

"Second worst day ever."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, let me wrap up things here and then we can maybe try and salvage it?"

"I think..." Mal bit her lip. "I think we should call today a lost cause. There's someone who needs you more." She nodded in Adam's direction. The older man's eyes were downcast, and though he was talking to Belle, it seemed as though he wasn't entirely present for the conversation.

"Yeah. You're right." He moved to hug her again, his cheek pressed against hers. Though the room was so somber, Mal smiled. She knew he could feel it. Ben pulled away, exhaling slowly. "No chance of you coming with, is there?"

"Not today." Tempers were too hot for that to go well. "Besides, I've got some people waiting for me back home."

* * *

Her three friends had been furious, and Mal was getting rather worn out by talking down furious people. She asked them to let her eat in peace and then take a nap. When she woke up, a bouquet of flowers stood in a vase on her nightstand.

"Evie?" she called out. Her roommate was not there.

There were two envelopes that accompanied it. One had her name written on it in Ben's handwriting. Inside, the card read - _Sorry for everything that happened today. I hope you're doing better. If it helps, I'm not sure what FG put in that antidote but I think I love you more now. DON'T TELL ANYONE._

She laughed quietly to herself and picked up the other, unmarked envelope. The writing inside was not as familiar.

 _Mal -_

 _I think it's time we met as we were meant to. Belle and I would like to get to know you, as Ben's girlfriend. Please let us know what time will be convenient._

 _\- Adam_


	15. The Other Family Day

**So this is in response to Darkmaster of the arts' prompt, the VKs and Ben interact. Tried a funny one again! GMAR universe.**

* * *

"So you're a thing now."

Upon Ben and Mal's arrival to the dorm, the couple had barely gotten three words out before Evie had squealed and dragged Mal into the bathroom. The three boys were awkwardly lounging around, waiting for them to return. Ben had thought they were going to formally announce their new relationship together, but it appeared he would be facing Mal's brothers on his own.

"Yes. Well, we already were..."

"Right, but both of you are _aware_ that you're a thing now," Carlos clarified.

"Yeah..." Was that a joke? Ben wasn't sure if he should laugh. Both the boys of the Isle looked rather somber. "So what are they doing in there?" He jerked his head towards the bathroom.

"I don't know, they have talks sometimes," Jay answered unhelpfully. He crossed his arms and exchanged glances with Carlos, who nodded. "But I guess this is as good a time as any. Sit down, Ben. There's something we need to talk about."

Here it was. The moment he had been dreading. He knew the villains' children had a propensity for violence, entirely because of how they were raised, but in this situation, even citizens of Auradon butted heads. Ben hadn't really wanted to find out what kind of creative threats Jay and Carlos had prepared for him.

Once Ben sat on a bed, Carlos stared at him and bluntly declared, "We will not help you."

"...What?" Ben didn't remember asking for help at all.

"You heard right. We will not help you. Ever. So don't ask." Jay uncrossed his arms and shrugged. "If you get in a fight with Mal, _you are on your own_."

The king almost did laugh this time. "Wait a minute. Aren't you supposed to give me the big brother talk? You're not going to tell me how you'll beat me up if I hurt her?"

Carlos snorted. "Mal can take care of herself. If you hurt her...well, don't. That would be my advice."

"If you mess up, man, we won't intervene. I mean, we like you," Jay added quickly, "And you're our friend and everything, but...there are some things you just don't do for friends. Not that we could do much anyway if Mal's really angry, and in the process we'd just get her mad at us too."

"Yeah, so your best bet is to just never do anything stupid," Carlos finished.

"Guys." This had gone rather well, Ben thought. Not quite the ideal atmosphere, but at least it was more of a warning than a threat. "Look, I appreciate the concern...I think? And I know Mal was pretty terrifying on the Isle. But she's changed. She's - "

A shrill scream came from the bathroom.

"Evie!" The boys jumped up and ran to the door, pounding on it until it opened. The scene in front of them was...relatively normal. Mal and Evie were standing in front of the mirror above the sink. Mal had changed into a flowy blue sundress, and Evie looked as though she had been slapped in the face.

"What happened?" Carlos demanded.

"UGH!" Evie stomped her foot on the ground. "I gave Mal this dress to look more...well, you know, like a king's girlfriend! And she decided it's 'not her style' so she just went ahead and ripped the sleeves!"

Ben relaxed, and he saw the other two do the same. "Geez, Eves, overreaction much?"

" _It was my dress!_ "

"Sorry, E," Mal mumbled shamefacedly. "I thought you'd made it for me."

"Then why would you deface it right in front of me?"

"It looks better this way!"

Exasperated, Evie turned to Ben. "Can you explain? Maybe she'll listen to you."

The corner of Ben's mouth was twitching, and he stepped out in front of Carlos and Jay to take his girlfriend's hand. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Mal, you honestly look beautiful no matter what you're wearing. I don't want you to feel like you have to change anything for me, okay?"

Mal blinked, and then a smile spread slowly across her face, which contrasted the long-suffering sigh from her roommate. "Okay." The smile turned a little smug when she looked at Evie.

The five of them returned to the main part of the bedroom. Ben, gratified that Mal had kept a hold on his hand, was even more surprised when she sat down next to him on the bed. "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh." Ben coughed nervously. "Jay and Carlos were just telling me...some things..."

"What things?"

"That he's a dead man," Carlos supplied, wincing when Mal's eyes flashed green. "I just mean that generally! Everyone's going to die, really. Some of us will have heart attacks, some of us will have strokes, some of us will be burned by dragonfire for forgetting an anniversary..."

Ben pulled a rising Mal back down. "We're in luck then, because I never forget anniversaries." He smiled at her, and Mal huffed but returned to her seat.

"He's lucky you're cute," she muttered to her boyfriend under her breath. Ben could not have been more pleased.


	16. A Step On The Way (AU)

**Hey everyone! This is next on the list - a sequel to A Thing of Beauty, requested by Adhara Sophie. Enjoy!**

* * *

Mal was so happy. It was almost as if she was a different person entirely. Evie saw it in the way she moved, in the way she spoke, in the way she interacted with everyone around her. Ben was the best thing to ever happen to her - it was no secret that he was the reason behind every one of her smiles. Evie hoped this relationship lasted...well, forever. It was about time her sister caught a break.

"What?" asked Mal suspiciously.

Evie quickly brushed a little more blush onto her roommate's pale skin, blinking furiously once she realized her eyes were starting to fill. "Oh, nothing."

* * *

"Hey Evie...we really do need to get going," Ben called through the bathroom door as politely as always.

"I'm almost done!"

"No she isn't," Mal complained.

"Stop moving your face!"

Ben smiled and leaned against the wall, checking his watch again. It wouldn't really matter if they were a little late, but he figured starting the warnings now would speed up the process a bit. Evie was an artist in her own right, and refused to be rushed, but Ben just didn't think makeup was all that necessary on Mal.

Finally, the door opened, and Mal stepped out. Evie had pinned her hair into an elegant updo, leaving two thin curls to frame her face. She had done something to Mal's eyes to make them look even more green - but darker, sexier. And that dress - a form-fitting black v-neck that ran to the floor, with a slit coming back up to her mid-thigh. Her reddening cheeks told him that her blush was not Evie's doing, but his.

"You look incredible," he murmured, stepping forward.

"So do you." She tilted her chin up to meet his eyes a split second before he kissed her.

"And _that_ is why you don't get lipstick," Evie muttered, walking past with her bag full of supplies. "He kisses you too often. I spend way too much on these just for them to end up all over him."

Ben broke away. "I do not. Right?" he asked his girlfriend.

Mal patted his chest affectionately. "I'm not getting in the middle of this." She walked out of the bedroom to find her shoes.

"But I don't, though. Right? Mal!"

* * *

Ben parked outside of the country club, but waited a second before turning the car off. "Are you okay? You've been really quiet."

"Yeah." Mal fiddled with her necklace, her earrings, her clutch - anything to keep her hands busy. "Just nervous."

"It'll be fine, Mal, promise. But any time you want to go home, we will. Okay?"

She gave him a pained smile.

Ben opened the door for her and held his arm out. The way she clung to him said volumes about how 'nervous' she was. He kissed her cheek and murmured, "Don't worry," before they ascended the stairs and entered the club.

A sign had been placed on an easel, welcoming them to the Auradon Bar Association's 27th Annual Charity Auction. Ben checked them in while Mal tried not to stare in awe at the magnificent chandeliers, thick velvet curtains, highboys overflowing with expensive finger foods, and the extremely well-dressed crowd milling about.

"Ready?" he asked her. She didn't even nod.

He spotted his mother and father speaking with some partner or other, a plump man in a three piece suit wearing a ridiculously large Rolex. Ben led Mal over to a table off to the side, waiting until his father caught his eye.

"I think I'll eat a little later."

Ben smiled. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm meeting your parents for the first time in a room full of sharks. There's plenty to be afraid of."

"I told them to be extra nice."

The corner of her mouth twitched, which Ben considered a victory. "Your parents or the sharks?"

Adam and Belle made their way over after spotting their son. "Hello, sweetheart." Belle kissed Ben on the cheek and then turned to his girlfriend. "And Mal! I'm so happy to finally meet you. You look lovely, dear."

"We've heard wonderful things," Adam offered after clapping Ben on the shoulder. Then he winced, realizing how awkward that phrasing was in the current situation. The most remarkable thing Adam had heard was that he had put away Mal's mother for murder years ago. Not exactly wonderful.

"So - thank - ah, nice to meet you, too." She was blushing again after tripping over her words. Ben gave her hand a squeeze.

"When did you get here?" he asked, just to change the subject.

"Only ten or fifteen minutes ago. It's quite full already, isn't it?" Belle observed, looking out at the guests. "I expect they'll start the auction soon. I told your father I'd like him to bid on that first edition George Monroe anthology. I'd love to be able to take that to the library."

"And _I_ told her that's not happening, unless she has a trust fund she hasn't told me about," Adam grumbled quietly. "We're only here for show, dear."

"You could try," Belle prodded.

Ben grinned. "Well, good luck to both of you, I guess."

"Ben tells us you're an artist, Mal," Belle said. "Perhaps we'll see one of your works being bid on in the future!"

"Oh, I'm not quite there yet," Mal answered modestly. "My first term doesn't start for a little while."

"Where will you be attending school?" asked Adam.

"Auradon Academy of the Arts."

"Ah, yes, I'm aware of it. A good choice. Congratulations on your acceptance."

The paintings proved to be a relatively easy talking point for Mal, so the four of them walked around pretending to appraise pieces that they would not buy. Various lawyers stopped them on the way to say hello to Adam and congratulate Ben on following in his father's footsteps. He couldn't count the number of times he heard, "Ah, the current and future DAs have arrived!" or "Hello Adam, Adam the second." Lawyer jokes.

Unfortunately, then their eyes fell on Mal. It was usually a quick glance, and then a double take, after which they ignored her and moved on, but she noticed. Combined with her inherent dislike of them - a feeling she had tried to put aside for Ben's sake - she had become rather uncomfortable.

"Ben...they keep looking at me," she whispered when Adam and Belle went ahead to the next sculpture.

"Because you're stunning," he told her, tucking one of the curls behind her ear.

She nearly rolled her eyes. "Because my hair is purple."

"That too, I guess. What does it matter?"

"I just...I don't belong here. They know it, and I know it, and - "

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, but you're used to - "

"You belong with me." That shut her up quite effectively, and for good measure he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Come on. Mom and Dad'll be wondering where we went."

He pulled her over to a table, as people were just starting to get seated. Adam and Belle were blissfully ignorant about what had transpired, still trying to persuade each other regarding the anthology. The bid caller took his place behind the podium, welcoming everyone and outlining a few rules.

"No one even knows who George Monroe is!" Adam whispered. "Right? Ben? Mal? Back me up on this." Ben and Mal did no such thing.

"That's precisely why he needs to be in the library for everyone to access! Not hidden away on some shelf as a decoration!"

"Well, darling, perhaps if you had married someone who could afford it as a decoration, they would have happily acquired it for you."

"Oh, quit being a miser. It's for a good cause."

"I'll have you know, very little of my money goes towards _bad_ causes."

Mal and Ben exchanged smiles, as it was obvious they were bantering more than bickering. She seemed a lot more comfortable when the attention was off of her.

"How long have you been at the library, Belle?" Ben was surprised to see Mal initiating a conversation, but pleased she was making an effort.

"Oh, years and years." Adam threw Mal a grateful glance for distracting his wife. "My whole life, really. I was a very bookish girl, and spent most of my childhood in various libraries."

"That's how I met her, you know," Adam added. "She was in our law school library, despite not being a student. A librarian chased her out for not having an ID card, but she came back the next day." He chuckled. "She's nothing if not persistent."

"That's really...cute." Ben knew for a fact Mal had never used that word before. He tried not to laugh.

"And here we have a beautiful set of golf clubs, kindly donated by the widow of Henry Rottam Jr., who tells me he never would have parted with them in life. You'll recognize the craftsmanship as..." The announcer was loud enough to be heard over the smattering of chatter in the room, but not so loud that no one could pay attention to anything else.

Ben noticed Adam trying to make eye contact. His father put his cell phone on the table and tapped it. Ben looked at his own, seeing a new text message.

 **From Dad: Looks like there are two lawyers from Mal's trial here. Not sure if she'll recognize them, but she recognized me, so be ready.**

Ben nodded appreciatively. They had known this would be a possibility. Adam had promised his son that he would do what he could to shield her from anyone who would trigger unwanted memories, and researched the trial the night before to remind himself who he should look out for.

"Is something the matter?" Mal was hyper-aware of his every movement, mostly because she didn't know where else to look.

"Nah." Ben draped an arm over the back of her chair, staring in the general direction of the auctioneer. He hadn't brought up this plan with her - she hadn't brought it up with him, either. She was probably worried about it, but she had yet to tell him anything relating to the subject. More than that, she still hadn't been able to share a single story about her life before she met Evie, Jay, and Carlos. Ben had seen scars. He knew there was a lot under the surface that she would talk about when she was ready. But until that time, he intended to protect her from her past as much as she would let him.

"...And sold! To the very lucky man holding number 22!"

During a break in the bidding, dinner was served. In the meantime, people moved around to congratulate the winners or greet friends they had not yet had the chance to talk to. A few of them came to talk to Adam and Belle. Ben politely shook their hands and made small talk for a little while.

"Does it bother you?" Mal murmured to him while his parents were otherwise occupied in a conversation.

"Does what bother me?"

"All of them keep saying how much like your dad you are, like you're a carbon copy. I mean, one or two people would make sense, but this is literally the eighth guy that I've counted. And your dad's nice...but you aren't very similar."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so?"

"No. You're a lot more like your mom, actually." She shook her head. "These guys expect you to take over the DA's office and run it the exact same way...I hope they know that's not how things work. Do you even want to run for DA?"

"I don't know...it's too soon for me to decide. To be honest...I do kind of wish people didn't assume, sometimes." He shrugged. "But they don't know me, so I don't blame them."

"I can blame them for you, if you want," Mal offered.

"Well, look who it is!" A voice interrupted Ben's chuckle. "The future DA, in the flesh."

Ben glanced up in interest. "Chad. Nice to see you."

Chad Charming, son of one of the premiere finance lawyers in Auradon, gripped the back of Mal's chair. If suits were jewels, his would have been a pile of diamonds. And if heads were balloons..."Same, buddy. It's been too long. So what's this I hear? No Harvard for you?"

"Not for me, no." Ben was quite used to Chad's condescension, something Mal clearly found unpalatable. Noticing the look on her face, Chad's attention turned to her.

"Is this your date? What's going on with the - " He made circular motions around his perfectly styled hair. "You know, you'd almost be pretty if you left your hair a normal color."

"Chad, don't be an asshole," Ben warned him in a low voice. Mal pressed her lips into a thin line.

Chad waved it off. "What? It was a compliment. Seriously. I don't think I've ever called anyone wearing a trash bag _pretty_."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion," Mal replied coolly.

"Oh, really? Trust me, babe, you want it. Do you know who I am? Because I've most definitely never seen you around...and I know everyone who's anyone."

Mal chose not to answer, and Ben stepped in. "Leave her alone, Chad."

"What? I just asked who she was...don't tell me, Mr. Future Lawyer Extraordinaire is hanging out with some _nobody._ Jesus, Ben, aren't you smart enough to know the optics on that? Because it _looks_ like you decided to come to a career-making networking event with some second-rate _whore_."

"CHAD!" Ben jumped up, knocking his chair back almost a full foot by accident. His fingers curled into fists - seething, he genuinely considered planting one on Chad's face. However, the break was over - the auctioneer had been calling for silence, and everyone had seen Ben's outburst. "Go back to your seat," he ordered through gritted teeth.

Smirking, Chad did so - not before pulling a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropping it in Mal's lap. Ben watched her go from pale to ghostly, and then cherry red from humiliation. Tears welled in her eyes. Quickly, Ben sat down and swiped the money off of her legs, grasping her hand with both of his in the same fluid motion. "Mal, don't listen to him..." Behind them, the auction started up again.

Adam and Belle glared angrily at Chad's retreating form. "I'm going to have a word with his father," Adam declared. "The fact that he thinks he can get away with doing something that inappropriate - "

"Mal, his words don't reflect anything about you," Belle interrupted. "They only reflect poorly on him."

It didn't work. "Excuse me," Mal whispered, getting up and walking out the door. After a nod from his parents, Ben followed.

* * *

She was sitting on the curb outside of the clubhouse with her head in her hands. Ben sat down next to her, but not too close - he felt like he was part of the problem. If he hadn't brought her, none of this would have happened. "Mal? Can you talk to me?"

Mal wiped her cheek and looked up, but not at him. "I knew I stuck out like a sore thumb but...I just can't be around these people."

"It's not your fault that Chad's a jackass, Mal. He's like that with everyone - even me, and we're supposed to be friends."

"Yeah? Did he show everyone watching that he thinks you're a prostitute?" she demanded angrily.

"Nobody cares what he thinks. Literally nobody."

"More people care about what he thinks than care about who I really am. That's how they're going to remember me, because of what he did. He's one of them. One of you."

Ben frowned, a little hurt. "'One of you'? What are you saying?"

"That I'm never going to fit in! That trying to 'introduce' me to everyone in your life was a mistake. That taking things between us any farther was a mistake. That maybe this whole - " She stopped at the stricken look on Ben's face. "Ben...I...I didn't mean..."

"What did you mean?" he asked quietly.

She floundered, and Ben's heart sank. "I just meant...that I don't know how any of this is going to work. But I want it to work, Ben. I just don't know how..." He needed a second to think, because he didn't want these open, aching wounds to talk for him, but his silence scared her. Mal scooted closer, resting a hand on his arm. "Ben, I'm sorry. I wasn't giving up. That was such a stupid thing to say..."

Ben covered her hand with his own, not sure if it was his bounding pulse he was feeling or hers. "It's okay. We both knew tonight wasn't going to be easy." He waited until she made eye contact. "But Mal, I don't want one random moron to be the reason you cut and run. You and I, and everyone that matters, know that what he said wasn't true."

"But I'm not talking about you and me, Ben. I'm talking about all of these other people who expect you to be with someone a hell of a lot better than me, someone like you, who won't bring you down. You heard what he said - you're supposed to be making connections and working on your future, and instead you've had to babysit me all night."

"Mal, no," he responded, wrapping his arms around her. "First of all, I'm here because I was forced to be by my parents. And I thought I'd make something good out of it by having them meet you. I'm going to repeat that - you were the _good_ part of all this. And secondly, I really want you to stop thinking that anyone is better than you. I chose my career because I believe everyone deserves the same chances, regardless of where they grew up or how much money they have. I don't think I'm better than anyone. I certainly don't think Chad is better than anyone. All of these high-profile people are still just people. They'll do some good things, do some bad things, and come out looking like a decent person or not. Their money or class has nothing to do with it. Just because you didn't grow up in this world doesn't mean you're lesser than any of them."

"Then why do I still feel like I'm not good enough for you?" she whispered.

"How about you let me make the decision about who's good enough for me?" he whispered back. "And you can make decisions about who's good enough for you."

Mal laid her head on his shoulder, and a peaceful quiet descended on both of them for a few minutes.

The door to the clubhouse opened - an unknown man leaving early. Ben figured more would follow. He got up and helped Mal up as well. "Let me just tell my parents, and then I'll take you home."

"No, that's okay - "

"Don't worry, Mal. It's been enough excitement for one night, hasn't it?"

He was walking away, unaware of the fact that she wasn't following him, when she called, "Ben, wait!" He turned. She was wringing her hands, still standing in the same spot. Even though her head was down, Ben was fairly certain she was biting her lip.

"What is it?" He stepped closer, ready to comfort her if necessary.

It wasn't. Mal looked up and said simply, "I love you."

For a moment, Ben's breath was taken away. She had never said that before. Actually, _he_ had never even said that before, despite being a little more open to the idea - and to being vulnerable. When he unfroze, he cradled her head in his hands and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

The door opened again. "Ben! I thought you were talking, not making out like fourteen-year-olds!" Adam chastised from the top of the steps. Ben and Mal broke apart, embarrassed. "We were waiting for you inside."

"Sorry, Dad...be there in a second..."

Adam rolled his eyes and walked back in, hoping to be followed by the other two.

"I'm so sorry I made you think...I don't want this to end, Ben. I really do love you."

Ben realized he hadn't actually responded, as ecstatic and eager to kiss her as he'd been. Her second confession was a lot meeker, but she was standing behind it - not running. He pulled her closer and rested his forehead on hers. "I love you too, Mal."

She couldn't suppress a smile. "Really?" Her arms snaked around his neck.

"Yeah, really."

They kissed again, softly, both of them still grinning. "Let's go back inside."

"Are you sure?" Ben asked her.

"Yeah."

He led her by the hand up the stairs, feeling so blissfully tranquil he -

 _Smack!_ Ben jumped nearly a mile high. " _What_ \- ?!"

Mal walked by him, unperturbed. "You had some dirt on the seat of your pants."

Gaping at the audacity, Ben just barely managed to scramble after her. "Wait! ...So do you!"

* * *

The rest of the evening didn't matter. Chad's forced apology, quite literally mumbled while his father glared at his disappointment of a son, didn't matter. The fact that the Monroe anthology sold for $1500 - not to Adam, who had refused to bid - didn't matter.

Because every time Mal looked at Ben, she had this smile, this telltale glow, that made it obvious to everyone that she was 'newly' in love. Ben might have had the same glow. He didn't know, and didn't care.

She was absolutely beautiful.


	17. The Fourth

**Sorry for such a long time in between updates! This is a modified form of the request from Eli201, which was Mal being pregnant with a very magically-proficient baby. Enjoy!**

* * *

"We are never. Doing. This. Again," Mal said in no uncertain terms. Her teeth were clenched against another wave of nausea.

Ben gave her an apprehensive look. "Which part?"

Mal was not in the mood for jokes. This time, at least, she had _planned_ on being pregnant. Unfortunately, she discovered that Amber had been quite a lovely tenant compared to this little monster. This was the fourth day she felt too poorly to do any work around the castle, instead lying in bed like an invalid. As much as she appreciated Ben spending as much time with her as he could, this really was _his_ fault.

Well, not all of it.

The vomiting and fatigue she could potentially deal with without cutting into her duties as queen. But this child was displaying quite a bit more magical prowess than Amber had. Not only did suppressing sudden bursts of magic tire her out further, but she had already inadvertently turned a few lamps into various forest creatures. Well, the baby had. She was just a vessel, really, though this explanation had not made much of a dent with some of the more easily frightened maids.

The door to their bedroom opened. As they were wont to do, Ben and Mal looked expectantly at where they expected the newcomer's head to be, and then dropped their line of sight a couple of feet when they realized it was their five-year-old daughter who had just entered.

"Is Mommy still sick?" Amber asked.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Ben informed her. "Mommy's going to be sick for a little while longer. But you can come hang out with us, if you want."

Dutifully closing the door behind her, Amber hopped-skipped over to the chair where her father was sitting to attend to her mother, and climbed onto his lap. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout. At first, Mal thought it was because she hadn't been able to spend as much mom-daughter time as usual, but that turned out not to be the case. "It's not fair. How come the baby gets to have magic and I don't?"

"Well, I don't have magic either. But I'm pretty good at table tennis, which is sort of like magic."

Amber heaved a dramatic, exasperated sigh. "Table tennis is _not_ sort of like magic, Daddy."

Ben shrugged. "I tried. Your turn."

"Come here, Amber," Mal said, smiling. She propped herself up and held out her arms to her daughter. Amber squirmed out of Ben's grasp onto the bed and happily cuddled with Mal. "I'm going to tell you something only grown-ups know about. Okay?"

"Okay." She waited expectantly.

"The truth is, there's magic all around us. Everyone has some. Even you."

The little girl frowned. "No I don't. I can't do any of the stuff you do." It was true. At one time, Mal had thought Amber would come out of the womb a dragon. She thanked her lucky stars every day that her firstborn had not needed any magical discipline in addition to regular parenting.

"Maybe not. But I'm talking about a different kind of magic. You can't see it the way you can see mine. You just have to believe it." She shifted so Amber was more comfortable in her arms. "You know how Tinkerbell got really sick if you didn't believe in her? It's kind of like that. If you don't believe in this magic, it won't work for you."

"What does it do?"

"Well...it's the kind of magic that gives you hope when everything is going wrong. It's the kind that brings people together, and makes us close as a family. It makes sure good always wins over evil, and that true love can overcome anything. I don't think there's a word for it, but maybe that's because it's the strongest magic of all."

Amber considered this. "It does a lot of stuff."

"It sure does. And all you have to do is believe." When their daughter wasn't looking, Mal rolled her eyes at the smug expression on Ben's face. This was his sort of speech. He was definitely rubbing off on her, after all these years. "The other kind of magic, the kind that I have, it's not nearly as important. I would give it up in an instant for the three of you."

"Three? Oh, do you mean him?" The princess pointed at her mother's belly.

"Yes." Mal felt a sudden rush of magic that needed to be quelled and cut her answer short, but it was alright, as Amber was deep in thought.

"I still think it's kind of not fair. But I guess it's okay because I have some magic too." She scrunched her brows. "I mean, I think I do. I haven't done any believing, ever. Oh, no."

With that, she jumped off the bed and ran for the door. "Where are you going, princess?" called Ben, alarmed.

"I told you!" Amber said, already turning the door knob. "I have to do so much believing today because I didn't do it before! And I don't have that much time, either. I am _so_ busy."

"Too busy to give your dad a hug?" the king challenged.

She obliged, running back to him and jumping into his waiting arms. For good measure, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and then escaped.

Ben sighed after she was gone. "I wish I was so busy I had a nap time and two snack breaks."

Mal laughed. "Why do I feel like you were born holding a full schedule and a ton of meeting agendas?" He shrugged helplessly - Mal reached for one of his upturned hands. "I'm glad you're here, though. Makes it a little more bearable."

"There's nowhere I'd rather be." He gave her a small smile and tenderly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

When they kissed, Mal noticed she didn't have to try as hard to keep the baby's magic at bay. He tried to pull back but she kept him there, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Makes it a _lot_ more bearable, actually."

His smile was now accompanied by a mischievous sparkle in his eye. "Something tells me I'm going to enjoy the next six months."


	18. In Another Life: Part 1

**This is a 3-part story, requested and co-written with xez2003! Admittedly after this 3-parter I will be taking a break from A Love So Strong for a while to finish up The Fire In Her Eyes, but it'll be back!**

* * *

Cheers reverberated in the large banquet hall as Mal and Ben cut into their cake, right through the middle of swooping calligraphy that read " _Congratulations On Your Engagement!_ " in deep blue lettering. A second slice defined the width of the piece, and a third freed it from the extravagantly decorated original sheet. Mal nudged it onto a plate - it fell onto its side. She found a spoon and scooped out a bite with a suspicious amount of frosting.

"Open up!" she said brightly.

Ben knew better. "Don't," he warned.

"What?" Though she appeared innocent on the outside, she was smirking in anticipation on the inside. Mal had a "bad habit" when it came to cakes, or so she was told. "You don't seriously think I would do that in front of this many people, do you?"

The king shrugged.

A picture of poise and grace, Mal guided the spoon to her new fiance's lips. He only relaxed when the entire bite was safely inside his mouth.

A mistake.

Mal had swiped a bit of frosting onto the fingers of her free hand, and wiped it onto his cheek. Ben's resigned groan was accompanied by laughter from their audience - a mixture of nobles and citizens, friends and acquaintances and family, totaling around five hundred guests.

"Sorry." She was not sorry.

"For that, you don't get cake." Mal didn't even have time to argue, as he'd picked up one of the many chocolate covered strawberries that lined the bottom of the fifty-pound dessert, and tilted her chin up. "Open wide."

She had to admit, chocolate covered strawberries were not the worst punishment she'd ever had.

The couple posed for the obligatory pictures before the cake was taken away to be cut into pieces. A familiar song began to play, and Ben led Mal onto the empty dance floor. A long time ago, she would have scoffed at the idea of dancing, even at her own wedding. Now she looked for any reason to dance with Ben - yes, it was only an engagement ceremony, but if anyone had a problem with it they could take it up with her one-on-one.

She rested her head on his shoulder while their song played, closing her eyes to forget that anyone else was there. They were all silent, anyway, some of them smiling fondly at the romantic -

Why was it so hard to breathe?

This problem had started all of a sudden, and it was getting worse. Mal pulled away from Ben. His concerned look turned into fright as she tried to explain to him why she had stopped dancing, only for choking, gargling noises to come out. Her eyes began to water. Foam appeared at the corners of her mouth. She clutched at her throat and stumbled backwards, fighting for every last breath.

Their stunned guests, once they realized what was happening, began to panic. Ben cried out for help, but his voice hardly cut through the uproar. Mal fell to the ground. She knew she didn't have much time before she was unconscious. The sound of running feet, shrieking people - she had to remember - there was a bronchodilating spell, she'd used it on Doug when he'd had an asthma attack - the _noise_ \- a darkness was creeping in from her peripheral vision and her chest felt like it was caving in -

She concentrated on the words, despite the chaos around her and in her head, telling her _you're going to die you're going to die you're going to die._ She'd beat death before. She could do it again.

Ben was bent over her, his words incoherent through tears. His face was the first thing she saw when her eyes snapped open and she took in two lungfuls of sweet, fresh air. "Oh my god, _oh my god_ ," he cried when he heard the wheezing turn into gasping.

"Ben..." Mal croaked. This spell wouldn't last. She needed an antidote. "Strawberry was...poisoned."

* * *

Two palace guards escorted Audrey down into the dungeons where her grandmother would spend the rest of her days. In olden times, this dungeon would have been dark and damp and rat-infested. Now it had been cleaned and modern plumbing had been installed. That, along with a variety of other modifications, made the place less of a human rights violation and more of a high-security prison.

The princess was buzzed through several doors, each flanked by armed men. Hallways disappeared to either side - not hallways, she reminded herself, but cell blocks. There weren't many. The guards turned and walked down one of them, leading her to Leah's cell.

Leah was reading - one of the many amenities afforded to her by her family's position. Others included an armchair, a TV, and a rather pretty china set off which she ate her meals. The old woman looked up upon hearing footsteps, and rose to greet the visitors.

"Grandmama!"

"Audrey, my dear."

Leah's hand reached through the bars for Audrey's - they only clasped together for a moment before a guard reminded them, "No touching!" It was enough. They obediently separated, but Audrey's fist remained clenched.

"How is our future queen?" Leah asked bitterly. "Or should I say, our future tyrant."

"She's fine now, Grandmama. She was discharged from the hospital during your sentencing. So there isn't any lasting damage - if you could just - "

"I will never apologize for trying to protect Auradon's future!" interrupted Leah. "She should have died. I stand by my actions. That's why I'm here now, helpless - but mark my words, I will one day be a martyr. History will remember me as a hero, and her as a villain. As it should." The former queen scowled at the guards and returned to her armchair, sinking down into the cushion with a sigh. "Do you know, Audrey, when Auradon was first formed - from fragments of nations that had been terrorized by villains like her - your father was considered for the role of High King?"

"You mean, where Ben is now?"

"Yes. If that had been the case, I can assure you, no spawn of Maleficent's would ever have seen the light of day - much less sit on the throne!" she spat. "The throne that should have been yours, Audrey! Twice over, you have been denied that power - "

"That's enough treason talk," one of the guards interjected. "Maybe you've forgotten that you are lucky to be allowed visitors after your assassination attempt on Lady Mal."

"Silence, fool," Leah snapped. She turned her attention back to her granddaughter, who was contemplating this new information with a growing sense of unfairness. "Audrey, you would have been a fine High Queen. Kind, just, beautiful - that position should have been yours. But in your place sits a monster who will burn this kingdom to the ground."

"This visit is over," the other guard decided. "Say your goodbyes."

They did so. Then Audrey went back through the multiple sets of doors, up the stairs, and into the castle proper. It wasn't until she reached her own home that she unfolded the small piece of paper her grandmother had slipped into her hands.

 _There is a witch who will help you cast a spell to right the wrongs against our family. The spell requires great sacrifice - but I believe you are strong enough, capable enough, to see this through. Find her at the southern edge of the moors. Take with you that which you love most, and be prepared to sacrifice it._

* * *

Mal said she wanted a few undisturbed hours to sketch in the library, but in reality she just wanted to be alone for a while. Ever since the poisoning, she had been surrounded by fretful well-wishers and paranoid conspiracy theorists, not to mention her own friends and family. Leah's confession and imprisonment had done nothing to alleviate any worry. Supposedly time would calm them down, but two weeks in, Mal had already started to go a little stir-crazy.

She ended up in one of the highest turrets of the tower and leaned against the window-frame, staring out at the beautiful view of the ocean - marred by the Isle, but still beautiful. It seemed Mal was not the only one who had doubts about her ability - or right - to be queen one day, one day soon. The fairy wondered how many others wished her dead, despite everything she had done since arriving in Auradon. She hoped she'd at least make it until her wedding.

 _Don't be ridiculous._ Mal fiddled with Ben's ring - which had been transferred, during the engagement ceremony, from her first finger to her third. She had always known this would be hard, but she had also known it would be worth it. Ben was everything to her, and one scandalized old woman wasn't going to stop them from marrying. She and Ben deserved a happy ending, one that they had found in each other.

Sighing, she turned and leaned back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. She was bored, but she had brought nothing to do. Despite that, she had no intention of going back into the livelier parts of the castle, where the very air she breathed was tested before she consumed it. Mal wished they would all worry more about themselves. Every single strawberry on that cake had been doused in a potent insecticide, under the assumption that she would eat one - but Leah had been willing to kill so many to achieve her goal. If Ben hadn't decided to feed her a strawberry at the last minute, the cake would have gone out to every guest in attendance.

She heard a deep rumble coming from somewhere far - a thunderstorm, perhaps. Smiling, Mal remembered Evie stressing out over how a rainy day would be the downfall of the engagement party. Needless to say, her best friend had been far more distraught than anyone else about the abrupt ending to the celebration.

The rumble sounded again, much closer this time. A suspiciously fast-moving thunderstorm, Mal noted. She got back up to look out the window, and what she saw almost knocked all the air out of her again.

Dark clouds, almost pitch black, rolled over the visible portions of the city. Lightning flashed within them, lighting them up into a reddish color. The unnatural fog raced towards the castle, towards her, towards...

"Ben!" It was far too late. The clouds were nearly upon the castle. Mal knew a curse when she saw one - she may not have known the specifics, but she knew they were doomed. If only she could help him, save him...

 _Ben..._ it was her last thought as she closed her eyes, clutching the hand wearing his ring to her chest. Then she was engulfed.

* * *

" _AAAAAAAAHHHH!"_ Ben jumped when he heard the shrill scream and ran towards the source. Skidding to a stop in front of Audrey's room, he didn't even bother knocking and barged in.

"Audrey? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

She was standing in front of a mirror, in no observable danger. Tears stained her cheeks. "I'm _ugly!_ "

 _Not this again._ It did not seem to matter what Ben said, or how much he supported her. This was becoming an almost daily occurrence. "You're not ugly, Audrey."

She really wasn't. Plain would be a better word - nothing show stopping nor horrifying. But the way she complained about her large nose, slightly crooked teeth, small eyes, expansive forehead, stocky stature...any listener would have thought she was living in a nightmare.

"I'm _disgusting!_ " she sniffled. "Where did all of this _we_ _ight_ come from? And - oh my god, is that a _pimple_?!"

"Audrey, please," begged Ben. "You know it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside. What matters is - "

" _Don't_ give me that shit, Ben!" she warned. "I know you're thinking the same thing. God, how am I ever going to go out in public?"

He frowned. "I thought you were getting better, Audrey. You almost seemed excited about our engagement ceremony this weekend. I'm saying this because I care about you - you should think about getting help. I've researched a lot about body dysmorphic - "

Audrey had stopped listening at the words 'engagement ceremony'. "No. I can't be seen like this. Make it...make it a masquerade! Then no one will see my face!" She snapped her fingers at her bright idea. "Send out word, Ben. It's a masquerade ball now. Okay?"

"Sweetheart." Switching tactics, he smiled at her and cupped her face between his hands. "We'll do whatever you want, but just know that you'll look fine and your people will be happy to see their queen." He leaned in to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"No, don't look at me, don't _touch_ me, I can't even - why is my hair so _dry?_ I'm going to fire whoever's in charge of my hair care regimen!" Her hunched shoulders told him he was being shut out. She continued muttering under her breath while she swept a critical eye over herself in the mirror.

Ben sighed and left the room, seeing as there was no real emergency. He'd caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, too. Tired. He was so tired. Years and years of trying to lift her up when she seemed adamant about staying down - it had taken its toll.

Not to mention everything else that didn't quite sit right with him. He was walking through hallways lined by priceless paintings and dotted with marble statues. He was heading for yet another portrait session in which he would be wearing ridiculously expensive clothing that would be thrown away after just one use. He was staying in a room with silk bed sheets, golden faucets, and crystalline chandeliers. None of this made any sense to him, but he would have to get used to it. He was marrying into royalty, and this was how royalty lived - opulence at the expense of the common man.


	19. In Another Life: Part 2

Mal woke in the dark.

Initially she thought she had simply blinked, and the dark cloud was still pouring in through the window and filling up the room. The smell of her surroundings first alerted her to any real change. _It can't be._ Sewage and urine and the brine of the sea - this was the Isle. Mal sat up with a jolt. She was back on the Isle.

Worse, as her wide eyes adjusted she realized she was back in her old room. The lights were off - Mal tried to turn them on magically, and then remembered she couldn't. The barrier had dampened her powers once again. _How did I even get here?_ She crawled to the closest wall and then felt around for the light switch panel that barely covered exposed wires. The lights flickered once, twice, and then held a dim glow.

Everything looked so familiar. Her ratty blankets were still in the corner she slept in. A collection of prized junk collected dust in another corner. A cracked and dirty mirror leaned against the opposite wall - upon approach, Mal saw that she was wearing torn and patched clothes instead of the comfortable sweater and jeans she had put on in the morning.

Her short term memory kicked in. The dark, inescapable cloud. Her loud scream. A sudden silence. She had been cursed back to the Isle - but what about everyone else? Ben, her friends, the citizens of Auradon? That cloud had covered them all. What horrors awaited her outside of this room? She needed to find them, to make sure they were okay, just the thought that any harm could come to them made her chest constrict all over again -

Ben's ring caught the meager light and sparkled on her finger. Despite the outfit change, it remained - so they were still engaged. He would be looking for her. The thought calmed her slightly, before she entertained the possibility that he maybe was too incapacitated to look for her.

 _I need to get out of here._

Mal knew better than to leave anything of value in plain sight. She pulled off the ring and slipped it into a pocket of her too-small jacket. Just in time, as it turned out, because a familiar set of footsteps was coming up the stairs.

Maleficent opened the door to the room, an expression of utter contempt on her face. "Stupid girl. Didn't you hear me calling you?"

Her daughter could only gape. It had been years since she'd seen her mother. Maleficent still carried her scepter and wore long, flowing robes. But more than that, the pure evil emanating off of this woman - while it was hard to forget, it still hit Mal like a ton of bricks. If not for the wrinkles on her face, she would have looked exactly the same as the day she'd been turned into a lizard.

Her ice cold glare chilled Mal to the bone. "Walk around with your jaw hanging like that and everyone will know you for the idiot you are."

"This can't be happening. This isn't real," Mal mumbled, mostly to herself.

Maleficent rolled her eyes. "So you've finally been hit in the head hard enough to damage that already useless brain of yours. Fantastic. Know that I have no intention of caring for a drooling invalid. If you don't bring that uppity squid's spawn to me in the next ten minutes, you can leave and not come back. I have no use for you."

 _Uma?_ Uma was on the Isle too? All of the Isle kids were taken off years ago...

"Well?" snapped her mother, stabbing the scepter at the air in Mal's general vicinity.

"I'm going, I'm going," Mal replied hurriedly. She brushed past Maleficent, deciding to forego the search for Uma and try to find some answers instead.

As far as she could see once she stepped outside, there were no other children her age. Then again, there was no one in general. The Isle was even more deserted than she remembered it being. A thick fog rolled over the ground, occasionally filtering through her clothes and making her shiver. The rundown buildings and gloomy sky precipitated her first flash of homesickness ever. _I don't belong here. I have to find Ben._ The need to return to Auradon became all the more urgent.

Partly to get out of the cold as soon as possible and partly because she hoped to find a familiar face, Mal ducked into Jafar's shop. She was in luck - today Jay was behind the counter alone. The shelves were mostly empty, and there were no other patrons.

One look at him, though, nearly gave her goosebumps. His long hair was greasy and unkempt. Injuries covered his bare arms; his eyes darted around the shop every few minutes as though expecting someone to jump out at them. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly, hardly even glancing at her.

"Jay," Mal breathed. "What are we doing here?"

"You tell me, fairy freak. You walked into my shop."

No. No no no no _no_. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me. Now I asked you what you wanted."

Jay didn't know who she was. Or rather, he didn't know who she was to him. His words hurt, but not as much as they confused and worried her.

"I...I need you to answer some questions."

"I'm not getting involved in your mom's shit, Mal. My dad already did that, look what happened to him."

Mal didn't know what he was referring to, but she had a pretty good guess. "I'm not asking you to. I just want to know - were we ever taken off the Isle?"

Jay snorted. "Why the hell would anyone ever do that?"

Her heart sank. This was the curse. Whoever else wished her demise, perhaps someone who had been working with Leah, had created another world - a world in which the VKs were never given their chance. "Because...we should be allowed to make our own choices."

"You've finally gone crazy, haven't you?"

She shook her head. "Where's Evie? And Carlos?"

His wary look only became more suspicious. "Carlos? Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"Are you asking me where Cruella tossed his body?"

Mal took a step back in horror. "H-his...body?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jay was angry now. "Why are you bringing this up? What do you want from me?" He stepped out from behind the counter. She heard a metal 'thud' and her gaze flew down to his lower limbs.

"What happened to your leg?" It was gone from the knee down. His ripped jeans had been folded over the stump to cushion what appeared to be a crude prosthetic.

"The _infection,_ you manipulative witch. What are you trying to pull? Huh?" He towered over her, and the thought crossed Mal's mind that maybe she should be scared. It didn't sound like this version of Jay would hesitate to hurt her.

She ran out of the shop, ignoring his shouts behind her. All of this information was coming at her too fast. It was overwhelming and impossible to process. Ben wasn't here. Carlos was dead. Jay hated her. Maleficent still ruled the Isle. And Evie...? Jay hadn't even mentioned her. What had happened to her best friend? Mal's hands clenched into fists as tension spread through her body. The all-too-familiar feeling of her lungs giving out accosted her again, stealing away any calmness she had left. She was alone. Entirely alone.

 _And I'm the only one who remembers._ Jay and Maleficent seemed perfectly fine with this turn of events. They had picked up on her doubts quickly, assuming insanity within seconds of seeing her. She didn't fit in because her mind remained in the other world. Was this part of the curse too? That she was doomed to remember the life she'd had, while she lived out the rest of her days on the Isle?

 _Why do I still have Ben's ring?_

Mal pressed her hand to the outside of her pocket, feeling the lump created by the ring. No, she had to have hope. Maybe these memories tortured her given the current circumstances, but maybe they were there so she could set things right. What if Ben remembered? What if he was looking for her? She needed to get to him. She had to -

"Ooh. Pretty."

Evie's voice should have been a comfort, but when Mal whipped around to look at her, the other girl was slipping Ben's ring onto her finger. _Stupid Mal!_ Giving the position of her loot away was a rookie mistake. Evie had always been light-fingered when it came to jewelry.

"Evie. Give that back," she warned, freezing in place.

Her former friend tossed her blue hair and stuck out her hand to admire the way the ring shone in the muted daylight. The movement made her already sharp clavicles jut out. She was stick-thin. "Oh, I don't think so. Besides, you owe me. I think this'll do nicely."

"What do I owe you for? I'll repay it. With anything but that." Mal winced. Showing desperation was another mistake.

Evie grinned, and the bones of her contoured, hollow cheeks stuck out like knives. "Oh, honey. I saved your life, remember? Are you saying your life is worth less than this piece of bling? Because in that case I'll just kill you and take it."

Mal never remembered Evie being this bold in their younger days. Did she really think she could fight the daughter of Maleficent, especially while weighing all of eighty pounds?

Then she noticed the belt Evie wore. Multi-colored bottles hung from her waist, liquid sloshing in each one. "That's right, sweetie. I carry my aerosols everywhere now. It's been so useful." She took a step back. "Now if you want your heart to keep beating, I suggest you don't try to stop me."

"Wait!" Her desperation had already showed; Mal had nothing to lose. "Evie, it's Ben's."

Evie frowned. "Who the hell is Ben?"

"You know..." Flabbergasted that Evie seemed genuinely lost, Mal continued, "King Ben. Of Auradon."

The other girl raised an eyebrow. "His name is Ben? I thought it was something else...Phil the Fool. But I guess Ben is just as generic." A glimmer appeared in her eyes, and she sidled back up to Mal. The fairy kept a wary eye on the chemicals at Evie's side, though the rest of her brain scrambled to figure out why Evie did not recognize Ben's name. "So where does a monster like you get ahold of the king's jewelry?"

How much should she explain? This Evie was hardened by extra years on the Isle, by never meeting her true love, by finding her calling in deadly potions. If Mal started blabbering about alternate worlds... "I know a way off the Isle," Mal lied.

Evie dropped her hand, and the ring nearly slid off her bony finger. "Shut up. You liar."

"I've seen Auradon. I've been there."

"You'd never come back if you'd been there. You would've tried to take over."

"Why do you think I'm back? I need an army."

Evie's eyes glittered. "Show me. But one wrong move, gecko girl, and I'll melt your face off."

* * *

There was no way off the Isle. Mal knew this. Still, she trekked in the direction of the magical bridge, wracking her brain for a brilliant idea. She knew things about the Isle that the residents would never know, having never been off of it. She knew the spells used to create the barrier, knew all the layers of security. None of that mattered if she had no way to break it.

The two women reached the shore that faced the mainland. Here, the saltwater crashed against a cluster of large rocks that had satellite boulders dotting the shallower areas of the ocean. Some of the rocks had eroded into sand; most remained as dark grey as the water and stood resolutely. Mal skipped from one to the other until her outreached hand hit something solid, but almost invisible.

"The barrier," Evie said, resting her hand on her hips. "Now what?" She stared apprehensively at the quarter-mile of deep water between them and Auradon.

"Yeah...now what?" asked Mal, quietly enough that Evie couldn't hear. No plan had been forthcoming, but at least here she could dive into the water to avoid Evie's potions. _Is the Evie I know even in there at all?_ She had to accept the possibility - no, the probability - that she would have to fight her best friend. Her sister.

 _What would Ben do?_ Her to-be husband was one of the most incredible people she had ever met. He had treated every single kid that came off the Isle with kindness and mercy, when no one else would. His plan would be one that brought harm to no one, a plan based in sincerity and goodness. She just had to think like him.

And then Mal knew how to get through the barrier.

"I need the ring."

Evie scoffed and hid the hand clasping the ring behind her back. "You must think I'm stupid."

"That's the only way to break the spell."

"So then how did you get out the first time? To get this ring?" Evie pried.

Mal sighed in frustration. "Look, I need it now, otherwise we're just going to keep standing here looking at each other like idiots."

"Just tell me what to do. I'll do it."

"No. It wouldn't work." Mal searched for an answer to Evie's skeptical expression. "You don't have fairy blood in you." The other girl remained silent, wheels turning in her head. "Seriously, Evie? Once I get us to Auradon you can steal all the jewelry you want. That ring isn't going to mean anything," she insisted.

"Try anything," Evie said slowly, finally having made her decision, "and I will end you." She reached for one of the glass flasks at her hip and uncorked the top. The ominous green fluid swirled a little inside. "Remember that if it doesn't work, the entire Isle will hear your screams."

Mal took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. She held out her hand for the ring, which Evie reluctantly gave her.

 _Okay. Here goes nothing._

She conjured up every happy memory she had with Ben. Every kiss, every milestone, every moment that lifted her off this dreadful island and into the clouds. She put his ring on her finger and then brought it to her face, whispering, "I love you, Ben," before pressing her lips to it - the closest she could get to true love's kiss at the moment.

With that same hand, she punched the barrier as hard as she could.

It cracked like ice, little glowing fault lines starting from where the stone of the ring had impacted the barrier and running in all directions. Mal heard Evie gasp behind her but she ignored it, hitting the barrier again and again until enough shards had fallen to allow two fairly petite girls through.

"It worked," Evie breathed. "I can't believe it worked."

Though she shared the sentiment, Mal remained impassive and tentatively stepped through the hole onto the rocks on the other side. Evie followed behind, practically hissing as the full force of the sun's light hit her for the first time in her life. Distracted, she only saw the next obstacle several seconds after Mal did.

"How are we going to get there?" The open ocean offered no assistance.

"We swim."

"We don't know how to swim."

Mal gave Evie a sad look, her way of silently saying goodbye. " _You_ don't know how to swim." With that, she dived into the water. Under the surface, she could not make head nor tail of Evie's muffled screams. She saw the green potion splash onto the surface of the ocean, only to be harmlessly dissipated by the waves.

 _I'll fix this, E. Somehow. I'll come back for you._

With a strong push off the nearest rock, Mal glided towards the mainland.

* * *

Ben adjusted his cuff links nervously. He did not have much experience in public speaking, though he would have to get used to it. This was as good a time as any to start. He wasn't sure if he was sweating because of the impending address or because of the merciless sun bearing down on the outdoor plaza.

For the moment, at least, he was hidden behind a curtain off stage left, while the castle's spokesperson delivered political and legal news to one camera and a throng of citizens. A guard was following Ben like a shadow, speaking into an earpiece. Ben had attempted to make conversation on the way to the castle courtyard, to no avail. The guard, unlike him, had an actual job to do.

A job at which he had apparently failed.

One minute, the guard was standing a few feet away looking as stoic as a statue. The next, a beautiful woman with deep purple hair and piercing green eyes had appeared just behind the man. She covered his mouth with her hand and whispered something - " _Go to sleep, and at the clap of my hand/you shall follow my every command."_ Ben's protector's sudden stiffness at being grabbed drained away, and he crumpled to the ground.

Ben's eyes widened. This woman had cast a spell, clearly without a single thought for the heavily-enforced magic-restricting laws that kept Auradon safe. Only one person was allowed to use magic freely, without being granted prior permission, and this woman did not appear to be a heavy-set, aging fairy godmother.

Those green eyes turned on him.

Ben took a step back while fear cleared his mind of all rational thought. He could only remember the stories he had been told as a child - of the dragon-sorceress that had tormented Audrey's mother, of the cruel witch who had turned his own father into a beast. Those days were supposed to have ended with the creation of the Isle of the Lost.

"Ben." It took him a moment to register that she knew his name, and another to notice that there was no venom in her tone. In fact, it was soft, loving. A trick? "Ben, it's me..."

 _Should I run? Would anyone help? If she's going to kidnap me or curse me, why hasn't she done it already?_ The woman was just standing there, her expression becoming more and more distressed with each passing second. "Who are you?"

Apparently, that had been the wrong thing to say. Her voice broke when she questioned, "You...you don't remember me?"

"I..." Despite all the warning signs telling him not to fall for her trap, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her sadness. "Should I?"

She brought a hand to her face, and her eyes shone with tears.

As dire as the situation was, Ben was a little distracted by the glint of a gemstone that her movement had revealed. "Wait...is that my father's ring?!" He knew the answer even before he'd finished asking the question. The gold signet ring was carved with his family crest and encrusted with sapphires - a remarkable piece not easily forgotten. How many years ago now had his father lost it? "Where did you find that?"

The woman glanced at it. "You gave it to me." Her voice continued to falter, and she still looked as though he had kicked her in the stomach.

"No, I didn't. I haven't seen that ring since I was five years old." His head was starting to hurt - a strange migraine that seemed to pulsate in time with his heart. The pain wasn't helping his confusion. Maybe she did look familiar? She didn't appear to be planning to hurt him, though, so he pressed, "You didn't answer my question. _Who are you?"_

She clapped once. Immediately, the sleeping guard jumped up, alert and at attention. "You never saw me," she whispered to him, ignoring Ben. A tear fell from her eye. "Just...keep him safe." With one last melancholy gaze in Ben's direction, she turned to flee.

"Wait! What are you - why - come back!"

* * *

Mal had made it to the back of the plaza. She kept her head down both for fear of being recognized as her mother's daughter, and because she didn't want any well-intentioned bystander to ask about her tears. Behind her, the town crier was introducing Ben, but Mal could hardly hear through the whirlwind of thoughts in her head.

Why had she never considered the possibility that Ben wouldn't know her? That her presence alone wouldn't trigger his memories? He had looked at her without any recognition - terror, in fact, which had _never_ happened before, not even the day she'd tried to steal Fairy Godmother's wand. This Ben had no confidence that she wouldn't hurt him. Turning around to see him test the microphone despite hearing it work not thirty seconds before, Mal realized that this Ben had very little confidence at all.

Clearing his throat, he started, "Hello, Auradon. It is my pleasure to personally invite you to attend the royal engagement ceremony this Friday, where Princess Audrey and I wish to celebrate our happiness with all of you. It's a masquerade hosted by King Philip and Queen Aurora - "

Murmurs from his audience interrupted him, Mal's own horrified, " _What?!_ " among them. Not only did Ben not know her, but he was to be engaged to _Audrey_? And Philip and Aurora were king and queen? No wonder Evie hadn't ever heard of Ben. His family didn't sit on the throne - though his new family would, once married. Her heart broke, not from jealousy but from the knowledge that Audrey would never make Ben happy...unless this curse world had changed her too.

 _It doesn't matter. I'm going to figure out who cast this curse and make them break it. That engagement is never going to happen, and Ben will be king again._

It could not happen soon enough. Around her, frustrated and disappointed citizens started to gather up their belongings, grumbling to each other about debts and losses. They were dissatisfied, and their anger was slowly finding a target.

"Is something wrong?" Ben inquired cautiously.

"Yes, something's wrong!" A voice yelled from closer to the front. "We were told to gather here for an 'announcement of great importance'. We've been petitioning King Philip for weeks to decrease the import and export taxes that have _crippled_ our business, and we expected some acknowledgement! So we're just being ignored, is that it? We have families to feed! Loans to pay! And you're using all of our tax money to throw a party?"

Others agreed, some quite passionately. Ben was clearly not prepared for this. He stuttered through a vague apology and added, "Perhaps this will be just the event needed to take your mind off your troubles - " Mal frowned. Did this Ben seriously think that was a solution? Though judging by his wince after he cut himself off, even he knew how stupid that sounded.

Nevertheless, another person felt the need to point it out. "By seeing how you royals live? Seeing everything we'll never have, because you keep us down on the ground?! _You_ are the source of our troubles."

"Look," Ben tried desperately, "I wish I could help. I do. I'm not in control of how money gets used - I can't do anything about it."

"Then you are part of the problem."

Mal could stand the debacle in front of her no longer. Seeing him flounder in front of the kingdom he loved, seeing him realize that he was powerless to ease their suffering - it was a fate she'd never thought he'd ever experience. A fate that was its own unique kind of torture, just for him.

Whoever cast this curse was going to pay.

* * *

Night fell. Ben was so, so glad this horrendous day had come to an end. He still felt horrible about the accusations the people of Auradon had thrown at him - because they were _true,_ it was all true. Royals lived in the lap of luxury, solely because they were lucky enough to be born into a high class. Were the rest of the citizens really any better off than before the unification? Were they still being terrorized, though the most evil beings in the land were locked out of sight? Was it because of him, and people like him?

Ben had these thoughts every so often. Audrey usually glossed over them immediately in favor of her own problems, but if they bothered him enough she would dismiss them with anecdotes of famous commoners who had pulled themselves out of poverty, and examples of how hard her mother and father worked. "Anyone can make money if they want to. Some people are just lazy."

He did not subscribe to this philosophy, but he did see that Philip and Aurora were constantly in meetings and councils and courts. They earned the money they got, didn't they?

Lately he could not convince himself. He felt guilty all the time, and there was no one else who seemed to feel the same. So he preferred to be alone, somewhere that brought him a little bit of peace. Needless to say, this location was nowhere near the castle.

Ben took his moped out to a secluded lake in the nearby forest, long forgotten by everyone else judging by the state of disrepair the man-made structures were in. He didn't mind. The natural beauty made his heart feel fuller, and there was a quality about the place that he couldn't quite put his finger on though it brought him some semblance of contentment. He sat beneath the broken gazebo, gazing out at the calm water, and felt the tense knot in his stomach loosen slightly. His thoughts wandered to the woman who had accosted him - and then let him go - earlier in the day. He had not told anyone, though his rational side told him he should be alerting the entire country to the emergence of this wanton magic user. The guard had acted as though nothing was amiss. What had been her purpose in getting him alone? For the life of him, he couldn't figure it out. She'd taken nothing from him, done nothing to him. So what did she want?

His cell phone began buzzing, likely because someone had noticed his absence. Ben sighed and returned to his moped. He would not forget the mysterious sorceress. He had the distinct feeling he would be seeing her again.


	20. Golden

**Hello everyone, slight interlude in the In Another Life saga - just had this idea that I wanted to get down before it left my head. Will continue In Another Life in the next update!**

* * *

"And that's it," Ben said happily, leaning back in his desk chair after signing the most important piece of legislation of his reign - well, according to him. "All of the future children of the Isle will have a life on the mainland."

Mal smiled at him, though he could not see it without eyes in the back of his head, and leaned down to wrap her arms around his neck. She kissed the top of his head. "They'll have a _life_ , period," she corrected, leaning further to press her cheek against her husband's. "I think we should celebrate, don't you?"

Ben's hand reached up to tangle in his queen's hair. "Great idea." He placed a tender kiss to her lips, but Mal nearly jumped back.

"You shocked me."

"Did I?" Ben grinned. "Oops."

"Did you not feel that?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes. "You've been in this dry room for so long, you're starting to conduct electricity." Heaving him out of the chair by his arm, she continued, "Come on. Let's share the good news."

* * *

It took a while for Mal to realize she couldn't kiss him. It hit her at the end of the night - when they'd gone back to their room and Ben looked at her with that intense stare that always made her knees weak, when he'd gathered her up in his arms for what should have been a passionate segue into other activities - that their last few kisses had been _painful._

"You really don't feel it?" she asked him, rubbing at her lips where the jolt of _something_ had left an unpleasant tingling sensation.

"No, I don't." Worry clouded his expression for the first time. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know." Cautiously, she tried again, but jerked away almost as soon as their lips connected. "Yeah. It keeps happening."

"It has to be a magic problem," he reasoned. "We'll call Fairy Godmother first thing."

They fell asleep cuddled against each other, not knowing it would be the last night they shared before all hell broke loose.

* * *

When Mal woke, she immediately noticed that wherever she happened to be touching Ben, he felt uncomfortably warm. "Ben!" She shook him awake, and once he'd blinked away the grogginess, she demanded, "Are you feeling sick? You have an insane fever."

"No." The king frowned and felt his own forehead. "I feel fine, Mal. I'm not hot or anything."

"Yes, you are." Her fingertips pressed lightly to his jaw, confirming her previous finding. "Call her up now."

Ben groaned. "Give me a second, I was so comfortable. Where is my phone?" The sought-after device came flying through the air, almost hitting him in the face. "Geez, Mal. What did you do that for?"

Mal's breath had caught, and she didn't answer right away. When he asked again, she replied in awe, "That wasn't me. That was you."

* * *

"Mal is correct," confirmed Fairy Godmother, not bothering to hide her surprise. "It appears King Ben has...developed magic. Quite remarkable. I don't think this has occurred for centuries."

Ben threw his wife a handsome, lopsided smile. "Well, look at that. You've got competition."

Mal was not so easily amused. "Why does it feel like he has a fever to me, when no one else feels it?" She'd had Fairy Godmother, as well as several random people they'd come across on their way to the meeting, accost Ben's face mostly without the king's consent.

The older woman shook her head. "I have to do some research."

They reconvened at a later hour. Fairy Godmother had spread a variety of texts across the mahogany table in the conference room. "It's hardly mentioned - barely a page at most in any of these books. But I was wrong - it's happened more recently - the last time _light_ magic manifested in a previously non-magical person was centuries ago. Apparently _dark_ magic can do the same, and does so more often since people with evil intentions generally go looking for ways to gain more power."

Ben tapped a finger on one of the passages. "So, I've manifested light magic?"

"Yes. Well, we already knew you are a good man, King Ben, but _this_ \- this is evidence of far more than that. Magic will only latch on to those with the purest or the most corrupted of hearts. And you - well, your words and deeds speak for themselves."

Growing anxiety aside, Mal felt a surge of pride. She could have told anyone that Ben had the purest of hearts, magical proof or not. He was kind, just, loyal, generous, loving - everything being 'good' involved, everything Mal had once found nauseating. She smiled at him, squeezing his hand and then quickly drawing it away. He still felt too hot - hotter, in fact.

"Why...?" She didn't have to finished her question. Fairy Godmother had seen the exchange, and a troubled look set upon her features.

"Yes, well...light magic is quite powerful, you know, and King Ben's is actually stronger than most, given the way he acquired it. It naturally provides protection against dark magic...the kind of magic Queen Mal inherited from her mother."

"What? I don't need protection from Mal!"

Mal just gazed at Fairy Godmother in horror. "It's not going to get worse, is it? Not worse than this?" She could take a little heat and pain. It sucked, but it wasn't the end of the world. She hoped.

That hope was dashed quickly. "I don't know, Queen Mal. It's in the early stages. We will have to wait and see how powerful he gets."

Ben had had enough. "I don't even want magic. Can't I get rid of it? What if...what if I did a bad deed, would it go away? I could...I don't know, steal something...?"

"Like hell you will," Mal argued. "If you did _anything_ bad enough to corrupt your heart, you'd feel guilty for the rest of your life and I'd never forgive myself."

Fairy Godmother looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "We shouldn't take any drastic actions yet. Perhaps it will work out."

It didn't.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ben began to repel Mal more and more. At first, every time she touched him she felt as though she was getting burned. And then, even standing in close proximity became too much to bear. With dread and desolation pooling in the pit of her stomach, Mal had to watch from across the room as her husband learned - from Fairy Godmother, and not from his wife - how to control his magic, how to cast different spells, and how to use this power for good.

Though given the circumstances, Ben was not the best student. His anxiety was growing too, as Mal had to be positioned further and further away from him. The day she had to walk out of the room because she could not breathe in his presence, he collapsed into a chair with his head in his hands. "She's my wife," he begged of Fairy Godmother. "There has to be something you can do. I can't...I can't not be with her."

So Fairy Godmother pulled Mal aside, wringing her hands with worry. "There is something that can be done, Mal. Light magic has never really posed a threat to anyone before, so I cannot find a way to eradicate it from his body. Dark magic, though - over time sorcerers have learned ways to purge that from one's system." She gave Mal a helpless glance. "We can get rid of your magic, and then his magic won't hurt you anymore."

Her heart raced. Give up her magic? It had been one of the best things about leaving the Isle, being able to use this energy that had been cooped up inside her for so long. But it was certainly not _the_ best thing. "Yes. Okay. Let's do that."

"Wait." Fairy Godmother held up a hand. "You must think about this. The extraction will be extremely painful. It has killed people in the past. And afterward - you will be weak, Mal, you will be missing a part of yourself. Think about how much you depend on your magic, what your life would be like without it. Give me your answer tomorrow."

* * *

"So I'm going to say yes."

"Mal, you can't!" Ben spluttered. The phone screen showed Mal a view of the ceiling in their master bedroom for a moment while he, presumably, threw his hands up in the air. Then his face came back into view. "Mal, please, you heard her. She said it could kill you."

Mal sort of wished she hadn't mentioned that part to Ben, especially with her resolve to go through with it strengthening.

"There has to be some way to get this new magic out of me instead."

"There isn't, Ben. Or if there is, it hasn't been invented yet." She sighed. Fairy Godmother was right, Mal did depend quite a bit on her magic. Everything from keeping her skin clear to learning all about dignitaries to preventing disasters before they happened. Ben would have to take over that last one, she noted with a bitter smile. "We don't have other options."

"We'll think of something, Mal. Honestly, there's no reason to put yourself in danger right now."

"But I..." She took a steadying breath. "I miss you."

Her expression was mirrored on his face. "I miss you, too. We've just got to stay - Mal?!"

Static had started to mess with their connection, and Mal could actually feel tiny pinpricks traveling up her hands to her arms. She dropped the phone. "No, no, no, _no_!" she cried out, her eyes welling. "Not this too!"

"Mal, don't - thing - please - prom - you - " Ben's voice cut in and out.

"That's my husband!" Mal yelled at no one in particular. "You can't do this! You can't - " She stopped, realizing there was no 'you' to blame. This was just the way of things, the course nature took when it came to magic. She had no choice.

* * *

Painful had been an understatement.

The feeling of every cell in her body ripped open so the magic could be sucked out was one she would not wish on her worst enemy. She had survived, but she knew just from the furtive glances she got during recovery that she was a wisp of the person she once was. Her skin felt like tissue paper, her bones like twigs. She did not care. It had been worth it.

"When can I see him?" she asked Fairy Godmother hoarsely. Her throat was dry, but she had not yet been able to keep down any water.

"I'll bring him in."

She left, and a few seconds later Ben timidly stepped into the room. A choked noise escaped him when he saw her, lying there in the hospital bed, barely able to move and breathing with the assistance of a nasal cannula. He edged closer, finally sitting in the chair next to her bed when it became apparent that his presence was not making things worse. She smiled up at him. "It worked."

"At what cost, Mal?" he murmured shakily, running his hand through brittle hair that shed from her scalp at the slightest tug. "You can't live like this. You have to get it back."

"No. I don't want it." Her smiled softened, seeing a tear fall from his eye. "I just want _you_."

Ben leaned over her, still cautious, and brushed his lips against hers. Neither of them expected the veritable explosion that followed, a force that knocked Mal and her hospital bed into the far wall. She passed out almost immediately, her last sight one of Ben screaming, " _NO!_ "

* * *

Perhaps it had all been a bad dream. Mal considered that thought before she opened her eyes. If she willed it, perhaps she would be back in their bed, the morning after Ben had signed the last piece of legislation freeing children from the Isle. She believed it with all her heart, because she could feel her magic thrumming through her veins.

But when she finally did look around her, she was back in the hospital room. No supplemental oxygen. No padding to keep her bones from breaking. A strong beating in her chest. It hadn't worked. Her magic, somehow, was back. Other damages included a soft lump on the back of her head where she had hit the wall, and a bit of bruising on her shoulder blades.

"Where is he?" she asked of Evie, faithfully standing by her bedside.

"He's been locked in your bedroom for hours, crying. He thought he'd killed you. I don't...I don't think he can take this anymore, Mal."

Mal knew what that meant. The final option, the one they hadn't even wanted to think about before this. "Our marriage is over, isn't it?" She did not know how her voice could sound so level when inside, she was in anguish.

Evie clasped her best friend's hand. "I'm so sorry, Mal."

All of a sudden, her rage crashed like a wave. She wanted to see things shatter and break, like her heart had shattered and broken. It just wasn't _fair._ Why was he being punished for being good? Anything and everything in the room that could be dropped with a satisfying _crack_ was thrown at the ground by some invisible force -

At first, Evie had screamed. And then - "Mal, wait! Stop! _Your eyes, Mal_!"

That confused the fairy enough to put a pause on the destruction. The toilet seat that had floated out of the bathroom landed with a clatter, the porcelain unable to withstand the impact.

"Your eyes don't turn green anymore, Mal. When you do magic - they're gold."

* * *

Mal unlocked the door of their bedroom with ease. Luckily for her, Ben hadn't learned how to seal it magically yet - else the fact that he was now an incredibly powerful sorcerer would have precluded her entrance.

He was lying on the bed, his face buried in a pillow he was clutching. At the noise, he looked up with puffy, red eyes and a tear streaked face - his expression turned to one of abject terror.

"Ben..." Mal climbed onto the bed next to him.

" _Get away from me_!"

Mal knew why he said it, knew why he had scrambled away from her like she was Maleficent herself, but it still hurt in an irrational way. "Ben, you don't have to worry anymore. I'm safe now."

"You can't be safe, not with me, not - " Mal held him down, and for the first - and hopefully last - time in their relationship, forced a kiss on him. When the room failed to blow up, Ben finally relaxed underneath her.

"It's your magic," she told him after they'd broken apart. He stared at her, incredulous. "I'd just had all of mine ripped out of me and I was so...empty. I think, somehow, some of your magic just found another heart to latch onto."

Still tentative, Ben's fingertips just barely skimmed her cheek. "So I won't...hurt you anymore?"

"Not anymore."

A beat passed before his face broke into a wide grin. "Oh, thank the gods."

She beamed at him. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too, Mal - I thought - you know what, just - " They had the idea more or less at the same time, and closed the distance between them to kiss each other greedily. Mal reveled in everything she thought had been taken from her - the scent of his aftershave, the rough stubble covering his jaw, the taste of his lips and skin, the sound of his heartbeat, and that _smile_. That beautiful, dizzying smile.

Thereafter, the King and Queen of Auradon conducted all of their magical business together. The bond between them only grew stronger, as Ben's magic tied them together. The extent of its reach became clear the next time Mal transformed into a dragon - one with scales of glittering gold.


	21. In Another Life: Part 3

"This mask doesn't cover enough of my face!" Audrey lamented.

Ben barely heard her. He'd been so distracted lately, thinking about the woman he was sure he had seen. She hadn't made another appearance, and it was already the end of the week. The guard clearly didn't remember her. No one else had noticed her. Had she been a figment of his imagination? He couldn't even prove her existence.

"Ben!"

"Huh?" Audrey stood in front of him in her ball gown, distressed despite the ridiculous amount of work that had gone into designing her dress and mask for the evening. "Audrey, you look beautiful. Really."

"I'll never be beautiful," she sniffed. "Never again."

"That's not - " Again? Audrey had never been much of a beauty queen, not like her mother. What did she mean by 'again'?

A servant knocked on the door of Audrey's make-up room. "Your Majesty, it is time for your entrance." Ben's entrance, as well. After all, this was his debut - a life of looking pretty on Audrey's arm awaited him.

Ben and Audrey walked down the long hallway that led to massive, polished wooden doors embellished with intricate designs. Two guards on either side pushed open the doors, which led to a balcony overlooking the ballroom. An elegant marble staircase wound its way down to the ground; it had been covered in a plush red velvet carpet before the event began.

"Her Majesty, Princess Audrey, daughter of King Stefan and Queen Aurora, with her fiance, Benjamin!" The announcement preceded their entry by just a second. Both Audrey and Ben plastered fake smiles on their faces, though Audrey kept her lips firmly sealed together for fear of showing her slightly crooked teeth. Ben noticed the crowd consisted almost entirely of nobles - none of the workers of Auradon had accepted his invitation. Luckily, the poofy skirts of the women took up enough space to keep the room from looking too bare.

They descended the staircase to polite clapping from their guests. Audrey immediately went to join her parents at the head table, and Ben followed. People were dancing - and Ben loved to dance - but he knew if he came within arm's reach of another woman, Audrey's insecurities and jealousy would cause a scene he'd rather not have happen. He waited patiently for Audrey to finish speaking with her parents, exchanged pleasantries with them, and then took her hand for their first dance.

This, at least, they had in common. Though she didn't look it, Audrey was a very graceful dancer after years of training and coaching. She was light on her feet and followed his lead perfectly. Ben was just starting to enjoy himself when another guest asked for a turn with Audrey to pay his respects. The nobleman was just the first of many - each would dance with the princess before she would take Ben as her only partner for life.

He wouldn't have minded this tradition so much if he had something to do in the meantime. Banned from fraternizing with any other female guest, Ben sat, ate, and watched until he was bored. He found Audrey and let her know that he would be getting some air, and escaped onto an outdoor balcony. From here, he could see the moonlight filter through the trees of the closest forest. He thought longingly about his secluded paradise in the woods, where he would be similarly alone but more happily so.

Ben couldn't have been outside for more than a few minutes when he noticed a presence beside him. While he whipped around, she tentatively called his name, and then seemed surprised that he had sensed her before she'd said anything. She looked like a dream - a simple purple gown on her delicate frame and black mask doing nothing to hide the bright green of her eyes. She'd dyed her hair blonde, but he still knew her. "It's you," he breathed.

"You...you remember?" she asked hopefully.

"I remember you from a couple days ago. Not from before that." Softening his tone at her crestfallen expression, he stated, "I was starting to think I had made you up when you didn't show up again."

"Oh. Sorry." She turned her head to look out at the view that being three stories up offered them. "It was hard to see you...and know that you didn't see me."

He didn't quite know what to say to that. "Will you please tell me who you are? What you want with me?"

The woman took off her mask. This time, without much fear involved, Ben found himself stunned by her beauty. Then he immediately felt guilty - how many hours had he spent trying to convince Audrey that outer beauty meant very little? "I'm your...I'm...I'm a person you saved, once upon a time." This admission brought tears to her eyes. "I can't tell you my name. It's not safe. But I can tell you that we're all cursed, Ben. This isn't the world we're supposed to be living in. Everything around us is a lie."

Ben blinked a couple of times. He sincerely hoped she wasn't both a wielder of magic and a crazy person. "Cursed," he repeated stupidly.

"Yes. Someone cursed the whole kingdom - because you're supposed to be king. You've been the king for years now. And Auradon...Auradon is supposed to be a happy place. A place for second chances. A place where people thrive." She sighed and shook her head. "If there's anything that I've learned over the past few days, it's that Auradon's success is entirely because of you, Ben."

"Um..." Could this be considered treason talk? "I really don't think anyone would ever let me make decisions."

"Not here," she insisted. "But in the real world, yes."

He chose his words carefully, so as not to upset her. "Is this why you won't hurt me, even though you have magic? Because I'm supposed to be...someone else?"

"I could never hurt you," she told him in almost a whisper. "I love you."

This was unexpected. In fact, it made Ben more suspicious. Only crazy people loved those they'd never met before. Still, there was something, something, in her voice that so convincingly suggested she was not lying. Plus, she had his father's ring...she claimed they had some sort of past...but who was he kidding? Audrey was the only person who'd ever loved him, and he even questioned _that_ at times.

Instead of a reasonable response, though, he blurted, "I don't know what love feels like."

Why on Earth would he admit that to a complete stranger?

He could see the heartbreak in her eyes. Before she could get out another word though, they were interrupted.

"Benny-boo, what are you still doing out here?" Audrey regularly used that particular pet name when she felt like being possessive. Ben considered the fact that maybe Audrey had a good reason to feel threatened. There was a beautiful woman, alone with Ben, claiming to love him...how much of that did she hear? She'd only just pushed her way past some gossiping women fanning themselves by the open exit onto the balcony. Maybe he'd been lucky for once in his life and she hadn't heard anything.

The mystery woman had quickly put her mask back on the minute she heard another voice, but ripped it off again with a look of horror. "Is that...Audrey? What happened to you?"

Audrey appeared to be equally horrified. "Mal?"

Mal. Ben now knew why she hadn't been able to say her name. Mal, as he had learned in a high school civics lesson entitled 'Preventing Future Villain Attacks', was the daughter of the infamous Maleficent. And currently, she was a fugitive from the Isle of the Lost.

That still didn't explain why Audrey recognized her.

Mal reached that conclusion at the same time Ben did. Her face twisted with rage. "Oh my god. It was you."

Audrey took a tiny step back and yelled, "GUARDS! A PRISONER IS LOOSE! SHE IS ATTACKING ME!"

Ignoring the sudden uproar in the building, Mal advanced on the princess. "You did this."

"GUARDS! SEIZE HER!"

Ben watched, helpless and paralyzed, as a team of six men rushed out onto the very limited area of the balcony. Mal had the good sense to change direction, and backed up until she hit the railing. Audrey ducked behind the new arrivals, continuing to scream. The guards pointed bayonets at Mal, which were affixed to rifles that would have no problem blowing a hole in a target five feet away.

"Stand down, prisoner! Come quietly!" They were confident, but they didn't know what Ben and Audrey did - Mal was a sorceress.

Said sorceress locked eyes with Ben for a moment. He didn't understand. There was no evil in those eyes - he could see it. He had never been more sure of anything. Maybe she was delusional and had a questionable relationship with reality, but whatever misplaced love she felt for him was true. No, he didn't know what love felt like...but why did he think that maybe, she could teach him?

Without warning, Mal leaned back over the railing and toppled to her death.

Ben yelled and gasped at the same time, a garbled sound accompanied by a belated reach for Mal's arm or dress or _anything_. Even the guards seemed startled.

But no - they all heard it before they saw it. The beat of gigantic wings. A roar of fury. Claws pushing off against rock. A dragon with scales dark enough to nearly blend into the night shot through the air like a bullet, flying away into the forest.

Ben nearly fainted. He was joined in his disbelief by the guards and any guests who still remained to see the spectacle. Only Audrey remained immune to the shock of seeing a supposedly extinct monster appear where milliseconds ago, a woman had been falling towards her doom.

"I want her captured! Tonight! And him - " Audrey pointed at Ben, who was involuntarily stuttering something about dragons, " - Tell her he'll be killed if she doesn't come quietly. And put him somewhere she can't find him!"

* * *

Ben paced restlessly in his room. It had been hours since Audrey had decided he was a prisoner instead of her fiance - though frankly, he'd always felt a little bit of both. He still remembered her threatening to have him killed - she wouldn't _really_ do that, would she? It had just been a ruse to get Mal to submit, hadn't it?

The guards outside his door refused to discuss anything, but by the commotion he'd heard a few minutes ago, he assumed something significant had happened. "Please, just tell me when I can leave!" he begged of them.

"Not tonight, sir. You might as well sleep for a while."

"So you can kill me without any resistance?" he muttered bitterly. No, he decided, more angry than afraid. He would not go out this way.

* * *

Mal took another punch to the gut from some unnamed soldier, while Audrey supervised. The unused dungeon was deep in the bowels of the castle, deep enough where no sound from the outside world came in, nor vice-versa. Her coughs and cries were heard by no one, save her few captors.

"I'll ask you again, and if you cooperate I might even send you back to the Isle instead of killing you. Who else knows?" demanded the princess.

"Go to hell," Mal snarled back, earning herself more pain. "You're definitely ugly enough to belong there."

In all honestly, Audrey didn't look _that_ bad, but she was certainly nowhere near the beauty queen she had been before. Still, Mal had clearly struck a nerve. "Shut up! Shut _up_! You don't talk unless you're answering my questions!"

"I don't answer to _trolls_."

Audrey actually slapped her for that one. For a split second, Mal thought she saw tears fill the other girl's eyes, but the fairy was far beyond pity.

"Don't you dare cry," Mal spat. "As if you're some sort of victim. You kept us all on the Isle, and do you know what happened? Carlos is _dead_. His mother killed him. Jay's leg is gone. Evie's been starving herself for years. And Ben - well, you have to know by now how miserable Ben is. You're responsible for it all, and I _will_ make you pay."

Before Audrey could respond, a guard came rushing down the stairs. "Princess Audrey - your betrothed has escaped!"

Audrey's eyes widened in horror. Ben's life was the only thing keeping Mal from using magic. "Shut up!"

It was too late. Mal smirked - and then she was gone.

* * *

It was exhilarating, being on the run. Being free. Ben could hardly believe he'd been daring enough to climb out of the window or coordinated enough to not break his neck doing it. By the time he was whizzing away on his moped, he had a smile on his face.

He went where no one would find him, and by the time he was sitting by the shore of the lake, dawn was breaking above the tree line. The smile slowly slipped away once he realized he had no idea what to do next. Where would he go? Who would hide him, a fugitive from the royal family? What would happen to his parents?

The thought of having to go back turned his stomach. Back to a woman who didn't love him. Back to a life he had no power to change. Back to being part of the problem. He couldn't bear it.

"Ben?" He hadn't even heard Mal coming, but for some reason her voice didn't startle him. He turned around, forgetting to hide his forlorn expression. "I heard you escaped."

"For what it's worth," he muttered.

Mal came to sit by him, not saying a word. His eyes were drawn to her now bare ring finger. "Where did your - my father's ring go?"

"I gave it back to you," she told him, the corner of her mouth quirking up. "On the balcony. You haven't checked your pockets?"

Fumbling in a manner totally lacking grace, Ben did so for the first time since the previous night. What she said was true - the ring had found its way into his jacket pocket. He held it almost an inch away from his nose to inspect it. The piece of jewelry was a work of art, with intricate designs carved into the smallest of spaces and a sapphire that sparkled no matter what direction it faced.

"Living on the Isle, you get good at stealing things without people noticing. And giving them back, I suppose." She smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress - the same one as the night before, Ben noticed, though significantly dirtier and covered in spots of - was that blood?

"Did she hurt you?" he asked softly.

Mal held his gaze - if ever Audrey had looked at him with such love in her eyes, he would have been a much happier man. "She didn't do the one thing that would hurt me the most, so I don't care."

Ben felt a lump in his throat, and had to look away, so he leaned back on his hands. "I just don't understand, Mal. Why am I not scared of you? Why would you break out of prison just to find me? And why does the idea that this life is just a bad curse give me _hope_?" He shook his head. "I should know better."

"Ben..." She reached out to touch his cheek, and he let her turn his head to face her. "Where we're really from, you're the most hopeful person I know. To see you like this...I can't even tell you how horrific it is. You're such a good person, you gave a second chance to kids no one else cared about _even before you became king._ You kept Auradon safe, and your people happy. You worked hard to give everyone the life they deserved, even the people that wronged you personally. I've never admired anyone more, and - " She blinked away tears to keep them from falling. " - for some completely unfathomable reason, you wanted to marry me. _Me._ The daughter of one of the world's most hated villains, the girl who came to Auradon fully intending to take it over, the person you taught how to love." Now she was the one who could not look him in the eye, though his shock probably would have made her chuckle were the situation any less tragic. "But now we're stuck in this nightmare, and the only way I can think of to end it won't _work_ , because I'm the only one who remembers - well, besides Audrey, but she doesn't care about anyone - "

"How would you end it?" Ben prodded gently.

Mal didn't answer at first, tracing patterns into the stone beneath them as she stalled. "...True love's kiss," she eventually mumbled.

"What?"

"True love's kiss." She sighed. "Otherwise, I'll have to find Fairy Godmother and hope she doesn't turn me into a lizard before I ask her how to lift the curse..."

"Your true love...that would be me, right?" Of course it was him. What a stupid question, after the monologue she'd just delivered.

She just smiled tiredly. "Yes, that's you. But it doesn't work if you don't feel the same way."

He thought for a moment. "Let's say you're telling the truth, and in reality I do feel the same way. In that case...I mean, there are a million ways this ends badly. This could all be some elaborate ruse to get to Audrey. Or to keep the royal guard from coming after you. You might just be a psychopath who wants to kill me..."

"This is not helpful."

Ben grabbed her hand, the one closest to his, and squeezed tightly. "But I don't care. I choose to believe. Because if what you're saying is true - that's the life I want. That's _everything_ I could ever want. To be part of the solution. To be with you." If there was one good thing he'd ever done, in all his life, it was making her eyes shine with hope like that. His heart soared. "So just...just let me try."

To his surprise, she really didn't take much convincing. In less than a second, her lips were pressed against his, and for all intents and purposes _that_ was the first time he'd truly been kissed.

* * *

There was no earth-shattering boom. No void opened up in the sky to swallow them whole. Instead, Ben and Mal felt a moderately strong wind whirl around them and then scatter in all directions, rustling the leaves of the trees around them. Mal felt Ben's initial awkwardness melt away and there - that was the man who loved her; she knew by the way he pulled her so close to him she was almost on top of him, she knew by the smile she felt against her own.

"Mal..." Ben pulled away just enough to rest his forehead on hers. The fatigue and depression had all but disappeared - he looked like a ray of sunshine personified. "I love you so much, Mal. I am so sorry I didn't remember."

She didn't answer, instead throwing her arms around him and holding him tight. Someone was sobbing - was that her? The relief that coursed through her veins had dulled all her thoughts. She kissed him again and again, demanding promises of him that didn't make any sense ("You can't _ever_ issue public invitations to masquerade balls!") and he agreed with them all, only vaguely remembering the past few days like a dream receding into the recesses of his memory.

"Come on, Mal." He helped her up, only to kiss her again. "We've got a rogue princess to deal with."

* * *

"I don't even care!" If Mal felt relieved, it was nothing compared to Audrey's absolute euphoria. "I'm beautiful again!"

Even while being arrested, she appeared as dainty and poised as a porcelain doll. "I hope prison wrinkles your skin," Mal snapped. "I can't believe that's the _worst_ thing I could wish on you after what you did to Ben and my friends."

"And you," Ben reminded her.

"And me!" Mal agreed.

"It wasn't personal, Mal. But I'm glad it's over. My reflection actually made me nauseous."

Mal fumed as she was escorted away. "It wasn't _personal_?"

"Give her a few days to mull it over in jail, Mal. I'm sure she'll have a more reasonable reaction." Ben turned around when he heard the door behind them opening. "Look who it is!"

The fairy was nearly tackled to the ground by Evie and Jay, each trying to apologize louder than the other. She shrugged them off and lunged at Carlos, who seemed rather confused. "Why can't I remember _any_ of the stuff you guys are talking about?"

Their reunion only grew larger. Jane and her mother, Lonnie, Uma, Doug, Adam and Belle - they all had their own horror stories and shared in the joy of the broken curse. It was among all their friends and family that Ben pulled Mal to the center of the room. "We never did finish our engagement ceremony." He knelt down on one knee, and smiled up at his future wife, ignoring Evie's apoplectic orders to wait until they had arranged another ball. "Mal, will you marry me?"

The answer was a resounding yes, of course, and Ben put his ring back on Mal's third finger - right where it belonged.


End file.
